Time of Darkness
by ldtowers
Summary: Written in the latter half of the TNG universe, but before DS9. (Was written in 1994, if that helps! :) A devastated Klingon Colony brings the USS Enterprise to a scene of horror. Mr. Worf must harness all his skills while reigning in his anger to solve a crime which strikes deep into his notions of Klingon honour and behavior.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

Roughly 300 Years from the present stardate.

Qronos

"We are leaving, MaH'drang. The empire cannot be a home for us anymore. We want an emperor."

MaH'drang shook his head. "You're a fool, Krong. You and your people. It is only through the elimination of the emperor that the houses will gain true power in the empire. With a new high council will come greater glory for us all."

Krong paced over to a table near the center of his office and sloshed some warnog into a goblet. "No. With the council will come civil war. The house leaders will spend their time fighting over the position of council leader. There is no glory in politics.

"No, I have discussed it with the members of my house and we have decided to leave the homeworld and find a place to forge our own empire." The burly Klingon shook his matted mane of hair and gulped back the warnog. " 'Drang, we have been allies for a long time. I urge you to join us in our quest for a new life."

MaH'drang snorted derisively. "I would not lend myself to such a fools errand. I stand a good chance of being the council leader and I am not going to pass that up. You do realize that you, too, have a chance in the _Jah'Jook_. You could be our leader. You are a respected member of the empire."

"I don't want to be the leader of this council. Councils are for the weak. Klingons in general are becoming weak. Don't you see yourself becoming decadent? Don't you yearn for the old ways?"

"No. I want to live to see my sons grow up. I don't want to die in a war that brings no glory to the empire. I have no desire to be subject to some half-mad emperor's whim. "

Krong narrowed his eyes. "You talk of glory and yet you are too afraid to die like a man! You are not worthy to go to _Stovokhor_!" Krong spat on the floor. "Get out you worthless coward. You ask why I want to leave the empire? Well, you just demonstrated my reason! This ruling committee will weaken us. Mark my words, The empire will fall, and I'm not going to stay and be dishonored with the rest of you. I will go and forge my own empire. One for HONORABLE klingons."

"I urge you, Krong, don't destroy your people, your _qorDu'."_ MaH'drang replied.

"We are leaving. Three ships with the new _pIvghor_ drive should put us beyond the territory of the empire. I will find my family a new planet to colonize. Now, I have made my decision and by it I will stand. Now get out, and good luck with your foolish council." Krong turned his back on his old ally and waited until the door slammed with MaH'drang's departure.

He inhaled deeply and stalked over to his starcharts; maps of the empire, and its territory. He would find a safe haven for his people. A place for honor. Krong took another gulp of his warnog, then wiped a drip of it off his charts with the back of his hand. He was getting to old for this. Soon he would be off to _Stovokhor_ and his son would be the head of the family. Was Bekl'er ready? Would Bekl'er be strong enough to forge a new Klingon nation once Krong was dead?

Krong shook his head. Of course Bekl'er could do it. Krong reached across his desk and grabbed his communicator. "Bekl'er! Come to my quarters, NOW!"

There was a barked affirmative and Krong sat down to wait for his son's arrival. Within a few minutes the door opened and Bekl'er entered.

"Sir?" Bekl'er asked crisply.

"Took you long enough." Krong growled. "Sit down." He waited until his son sat and then continued. "Is all in readiness for our departure tomorrow?"

"Yes, sir. All five hundred of us are quartered in the fleet. There were about two hundred who refused to join us, and they have joined other houses. We can leave tomorrow. It will be glorious, Father." Bekl'er's eyes gleamed in excitement.

Krong grunted. "Then get yourself off to the ship. I will join you shortly. We leave at dawn."

"Of course, father." Bekl'er turned to leave.

"And Bekl'er, I want you to run a systems check on the Mara, the Qel, and the QoreQ. I don't trust the _pIvghor_ drive. It is too new, too untested."

"Father, the _pIvghor_ drive is what helped us win the war against the Gorn! It is infallible." Bekl'er exclaimed.

"Humor an old man, Bekl'er, and run that systems check. Do as you are instructed." Krong replied. Bekl'er nodded sharply and left.

The next day the Mara, the Qel, and the QoreQ left the empire forever. In cramped vessels the colonists traveled for over four years. A hundred died of starvation before they landed on a solitary planet orbiting a young star. The four hundred who lived to colonize the planet, which they named _SoS_ , or Mother, created a klingon society unlike any other. This society was not built on conquest, but on creation, and agriculture, and as such, what was considered honorable changed. The klingons of SoS, forced to learn such ideals as co-operation and tolerance existed in peace with each other, and through work and dedication, the small, forgotten colony thrived.

Twelve Years ago,

Qronos, The Plaza of the Damned

The old woman looked at the shining silver box with sadness. She knew very well what was inside, for she had been told to expect this package. Her hand skittered across surface and entered the code that would open the box. With a smooth hiss the casket opened. Inside laid the body of a klingon in full battle armor.

The ancient klingon crone and heaved a sigh. She did not want to believe that her master was dead. "But he is with Kahless now." She said fatalisticaly. "I never thought I would see the child I nursed, a corpse. Before he left, he said to me, 'Fadang, just a quick fight, and I will be home after the winter season.'" She touched his cheek. "But you came back before Spring, my master, winter hasn't ended." A gleam of jewels caught her eye and she pushed aside the body. Underneath the corpse lay a weapon. She gasped. She knew the story about this sword. If it ever fell into darkness, the klingon house it belonged to would also fall into darkness. Fadang gazed at the sparkling sword, and murmered, "And will winter ever end?"

She pursed her lips. This was a sign. The woman gently lay the body back on top of the sword. Veri'na, her mistress, it seemed had sent Fadang a message. The body was to buried in the secret place. The house was doomed. Fadang wondered if the children were still alive. She knew that the children were the only hope for the great house. When they died, the house died with them.

She turned around and reached for hide pillow which lay on the ground beside her. With an efficient rip, she tore the object apart. Eleven isolinear chips spilled from the stuffing to pile on top of the body, a silicone heap. Satisfied, the hag touched the forehead of the corpse. "Sleep, my child. The gauntlet passes to the next generation. Our house will return from the darkness that has descended upon it."

She stabbed a button with a gnarled finger and the lid of the coffin shut. Fadang walked over to the tree that was directly in front of her. The hole she had her sons dig was big enough, about two meters deep. "I give him to you, _Fek'lhr_." She said aloud and picked up a remote control. She operated the control with difficulty, her twisted, arthritic, claws fumbling over the buttons. After a moment, the antigrav unit that the casket lay on rose into the air. It moved over the pit and then slowly lowered. Fadang bent down and picked up a shovel and covered the box with the earth that was alongside.

Terribly tired, her old body screaming, but satisfied with her work, she rose and hobbled out of the twisted grove of trees. As she existed the plaza, she heard the harsh staccato of boots on the cobble stones.

"Bitch of the house of Keth'ex! Die!" Harsh voices yelled.

She did not try to run, for her old legs could not take the strain. She had nothing left in her. She stopped when she saw the first phasor beam flash by. Fadang turned and looked at the men who would have her dead. She stared defiantly at them and spat on the road. Her mind remembering a better time, she didn't even feel the phasor bolt that ripped open her chest. With a gurgling sigh she fell, and was dead before she hit the ground.

The young klingon soldiers walked up and one gave the warm body a sharp kick. "I wonder what she was doing in the plaza?" He asked.

"I don't know and I don't care. We were just told to kill her. We have done that. Lersash will be pleased." His companion said. They turned and walked away. The old woman's blood rolled across the street, and into the gutter.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

LT. Worf entered his quarters, utterly exhausted. He had worked four shifts, back to back, and now all he wanted to do was sleep. For a week, he added silently to himself. At least the Telferian virus, a sickness that caused temporary paralysis in most humanoids, which had infected the humans on the Enterprise was at last under control. The bridge was properly staffed again.

Worf wrinkled his nose as a strange, sweet smell assailed his nostrils. He reasoned that it must be Alexander. He walked around the doorway and saw Alexander sitting on the couch with a massive bowl of oozing, brown ...

"What is that?" He mumbled.

"It's ice cream, Father. Chocolate. Do you want some?" Alexander piped up.

"Why are you eating that? It's eight in the morning. That isn't proper food." Worf's tone was sharp with tired annoyance.

"Counselor Troi says that anytime is chocolate time."

"Counselor Troi is not a growing boy." Worf growled. He was too tired to deal with this. "Ah, do what you will. I am going to bed. Be sure to eat some real food before you go to school."

"But School is so boring, Father! I want to stay here today." Alexander whined.

"You will go to school, Alexander, and you will be on time. Maybe on my day off we can go and spend some time together in the holodeck." Worf kneaded the small of his back with his fists.

"That's what you said last week." Alexander grumbled.

"I know. I am sorry. I can't control what happens on this ship. Commander Data and I were running the ship while the humans were sick. I have some leave time coming soon, then we will have a holiday." He yawned suddenly. "Go back to the homeworld perhaps, or visit Kurn or go to Rhisa."

"Yes father. I understand." Alexander replied somewhat dejectedly, obviously not understanding at all.

"I am going to bed now, so be quiet." He did not have the time, nor the inclination to deal with his son at this moment.

"Sleep well father. I guess I will leave in about half an hour."

Worf grunted and stepped into his bedroom. He undid his sash and practically ripped off his uniform. Not keeping with his usual neatness, he threw his uniform on the floor and crawled into bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

A strange chirping brought Worf out of a troubled dream. With a clenched fist he slammed the comm panel on the beside table. "What?" He growled.

"Sorry to disturb you Lieutenant," came the slightly amused voice of Captain Picard, "But we are receiving a distress signal that you should hear. Meet us in the observation lounge."

"Yes sir. Worf Out." Worf replied feeling slightly ashamed. "Computer, what time is it?"

"Thirteen hundred hours, twenty-eight minutes, fourty-nine seconds." came the dry voice of the computer. Thirty-two hours of work, followed by five hours of sleep. He had only two hours of sleep before that long shift. He had gone longer on less, however, there were limits, even for a klingon.

Worf groaned and grabbed a fresh uniform. He sneered at the mess he had left and strode from his quarters. He could feel that the Enterprise was traveling at a high warp speed. That was strange. When he had left the bridge they had been meandering along at warp two, towards starbase one-nine-five.

He entered the turbo lift and called for the bridge. He worked to get his hair in some semblance of order, and had just wrapped a thong around his ponytail when the door slid open. The captain, Riker, Troi, Data, Dr. Crusher, and LaForge were already sitting down around the table.

"Ah, Mr. Worf, have a seat while Mr. Data brings us up on the latest developments." Picard ordered briskly. Worf sat as Data began.

"Yes, sir. At Thirteen-ten we received a distress call from the Klingon colony On Caltiras. It would seem the colony has been attacked by a force of unknown size and number sometime yesterday afternoon." Data said.

Worf racked his brain a moment and then asked, " Where is Caltiras?"

"The planet SoS, in Klingon. It is right on the border of Federation and Klingon Space. It was discovered ten years ago by the USS Tutankhamen, under the command of Captain Levenstraad." Data supplied.

"I have heard of this colony." Worf said. "May I see the distress message?"

Picard nodded and hit a few buttons on the table. A face appeared on the view screen. It was a klingon face, but the clothing was not what a klingon would wear. He was wearing a bright green smock over a loose black tunic. His hair was shoulder length and in the same sort of style Worf had been known to wear. His face was covered in soot, and a greasy black smoke filled the room he was in.

"This is Qang Toloth, of the planet SoS. We are under attack. If anyone can hear me, please come to our aid at once. We cannot hold out mu-" The transmission ended as the room appeared to explode.

Worf could feel his blood boil. A growl began to rise in the back of his throat and he was barely able to stifle it. He resorted to grinding his teeth loudly instead. He didn't like to see messages like that; it always meant that the Enterprise was too late.

"What kind of Klingons are those?" Riker asked his dark brow furrowing..

"Mr. Data?" Picard passed the question along.

"The Caltirian Klingons left the Empire around three hundred years ago, around the time that the Klingon Emperors were eliminated. This was under the leadership of a high councilor named MaH'drang, who became the first leader of the high council as it exists today.

"It is speculated that another councilor named Krong funded the colonists, but there is no existing proof. Not much is known about how the colonists got so far away from the Empire. At that time Klingons were only capable of warps one and two, and records kept during that period of klingon history are very sketchy.

"The Caltirians have what could be called a feudal society, rather similar to that of earth in the 12th century AD, or Vulcan during the Bristock Dynasties. They are ruled by a King, who is advised by six chancellors who are the equivalents of Dukes. They have an Agrarian based culture and have an intense dislike of war and/or destruction. They are also distrustful of advanced technology, yet since their rediscovery they have traded with both the federation and the Empire for what could be called 'light Tech.' They have refused to be at all included into the Klingon Empire, and in turn have not asked for Federation assistance. They are fiercely proud of their independence and their accomplishments. It is unknown why they abandoned their advanced technology. Federation Sociologists conjecture that even though the original colonists knew how to use the technology available, they did not have the means to repair and maintain such equipment. It is also thought that anything salvageable would have eventually lost power and the SoSian people had no way to recharge power cells. Under such circumstances, useless knowledge such as that would not be taught to the offspring. Once it was lost, they dropped back into a state of iron age development.

"Their culture is based on a system of honor and accomplishment. Someone who is considered a 'peasant' can raise himself into the nobility by doing some great act, whereas if a noble acts dishonorably, he and his family can be stripped of their rank. "

"Mr. Data, how is the colony spread out?" Picard asked.

"The entire kingdom of SoS is on an elliptical island, one thousand kilometers long by three hundred wide. There are six provinces which are ruled by the chancellors who are in turn supervised by the King. In each province there is one large city where everyone lives. The farms are adjacent to the cities. The population of the colony is 2491 klingons." Data finished.

"How easy would it be to destroy such a colony?" Riker questioned.

"Any starship with phasor technology could destroy such a place by firing on each of the cities. Two point six phasor blasts could destroy any given city. The cities are more like townships, they average about three hundred citizens, with about four hundred in the capital city of DaQ'na." Data said.

Beverly Crusher shook her amber hair. "That's barbaric. Who would want to attack a group of pacifist Klingons?"

Worf snorted. "I know some about the SoS people. They are not pacifists, there just aren't enough of them to make war amongst themselves. There is no such thing as a pacifist Klingon."

"Not in the blood, hmm, Lt. Worf?" Riker questioned dryly.

"You could say that. The fire of battle is in us all. An interesting thing about the SoS Klingons is that they have a very interesting and unique fighting style, and in the five years since the discovery of their planet they haven't taught it to anyone." Worf stated. He looked over Beverly's head and watched the stars streak by. "From what I have heard from those who have seen this fighting style, the SoSians don't follow the same ritualistic movement patterns with their weapons as a warrior would. They have 'mock tournaments' which I hear are fast and furious, and fighting has changed into more of a spectator's sport. This new style is renown for the revolutionary throws and holds used during combat. It is supposedly very difficult to defeat a SoSian klingon who has achieved a high rank in their fighting school"

"Do they use the same weapons?" asked Picard.

"Yes, to a point. They do not have any phasor/laser technology. Weapon wise they are an iron age culture." answered Data.

"How many original colonists were there, Data?" Inquired the doctor.

"The number is unknown, however, the colony has been growing fairly fast, or so it would seem. The ratio of male to female births seems to be about one to four, and it is not uncommon for males to have more than three wives. Some nobles have as many as six."

Troi blinked and looked a little sick. Riker looked at her with a smug little grin. "Sounds like a nice little planet."

Geordi looked over at Riker. "But Commander, think of all the nagging."

"Klingon women don't nag." Worf said slyly.

"As I said, nice little planet."

Troi playfully slapped Riker in the arm. "What a terrible thing to say. Doctor, I think we should each start an all male harem, and see how these fellows like it." They all laughed, even Worf cracked a smile into his usual scowl. Then there was a moment of silence, and they listened to the deep thrumming of the Enterprises engines.

"Anyway, as we are the closest vessel to Caltiras I have told starfleet that we will reply to the distress signal. At warp nine we should reach there in about sixty three hours. Beverly, I want sick bay to be ready to look after serious casualties." Picard waited until she nodded. "Number One, I want you to set up cargo bay three as an emergency shelter. Counselor, I want you to be ready to look after any psychological problems. Mr. Worf, have your security teams ready. There could still be some fighting and I don't want the medical teams injured. I think that is everything. Dismissed."

They all rose and filled out of the observation lounge. "Mr. Worf!" Picard called. Worf turned around and returned to the table where the captain still sat. He seated himself at the Captain's gesture.

"Yes Captain?"

"I can understand your upset at these events. It must remind you of Khitomer."

"In some ways; but I know that the Romulans could not attack the settlement where it is, and that relieves me. I am," he paused, "I am angered that someone would attack a defenseless colony. It is dishonorable."

Captain Jean-Luc Picard nodded sagely. "However, Mr. Worf, there are those who would do such a thing for sport. Now, I do want you to get some sleep sometime in the next 63 hours. I have taken you off the duty roster until then. I will expect you to be on the bridge when we arrive."

"Yes sir." He turned to leave.

"And Worf-" Worf turned around. "I intend to put a commendation on your record for your service while we were all sick. You and Commander Data did an excellent job of keeping the Enterprise in tact. You worked above and beyond the call of duty and deserve a pat on the back." The Captain said with a smile.

"A pat on the back, Sir?" Worf raised a bushy brow.

"Never mind, Mr. Worf." Picard chuckled.

Worf nodded. "Thank you, sir." He left.

The sixty-three hours passed very quickly. The Captain's orders were followed to the letter, as usual, and all was ready. Worf stood at tactical as the Enterprise dropped out of warp in the Caltirian system. The captain and the first officer were in the command chairs, Troi was working in sickbay with Doctor crusher.

There was a tiny lurch as the inertial dampening system compensated for the drastic change in speed. Worf rarely ever noticed it; however, today, even the most commonplace happenings deserved his notice. The instincts of the warrior were aroused, his senses on overdrive. There was something about an unknown situation that excited Worf. He liked the feeling of his adrenalin pumping through his veins, it made him feel more alive.

"How long until were are able to orbit Caltiras, Mr. Data?" Picard rubbed his lower lip thoughtfully.

"Three minutes, twenty-two seconds, sir."

"Excellent. I want you to scan for life signs as soon as possible." The captain tapped his badge. "Picard to Crusher. We will be in orbit in three minutes. Ready your medical teams for casualties."

"Yes, I have two triage groups ready, and all my doctors and nurses on standby."

"Excellent. We will commence an evacuation as soon as we have enough sensory data."

Worf saw that the stars had stopped streaking by on the view screen. As they approached the planet he put an image of it on the forward display. SoS was a luminous turquoise orb dotted with tiny green land masses, and swathed with a delicate looking cloud cover. It looked more like a child's glass bauble than a planet, and Worf could understand how any group of travelers would call this place a haven. It was a safe spot past the fringes of the galaxy. At least until a few hours ago.

Riker straightened up and turned to the captain, "You don't expect the worst do you?"

"Number one, I have seen the results of surprise raids such as this, and I am sure that Mr. Worf can tell you much about Khitomer." Picard was grim. "I hope that I am wrong."

"Establishing orbit now, Captain." A young vulcan ensign said from the helm.

"Thank you, Mr. Sarnok."

Data then reported, "Captain, the sensors detect only one, very weak klingon life sign."


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Riker stood up. "Data, Worf, you're with me." He tapped his communicator badge, "Doctor Crusher, report to transporter room three."

Worf waited until Riker and Data had passed him into the turbo lift and then entered himself. He felt sick. One survivor of twenty-five hundred people.

"Transporter room three." Riker barked. They passed the time in the turbolift silently, the sound of the machinery the only noise.

"I sent the transporter room the coordinates in the vicinity of the survivor. There is only one structure standing in the city." Data finally said. "All other cities on the island have been destroyed."

Riker nodded as he stepped out of the lift. His stride was purposeful as he walked into the transporter room. He saw Beverly Crusher in the room checking over her gear.

"Will," she looked up when she heard him, "I told Deanna to come. I think if our survivor is conscious her talents will be needed. People in these situations tend to be a little hysterical. I just can't believe it, only one survivor."

"Noted, and a very good idea." William Riker answered as he took the phasor Worf handed to him.

Worf was attaching his own Phasor to his belt and adjusting his tricorder, when Counselor Troi entered the room. Worf nodded to her and stepped onto the platform.

He liked the feel of the transporter room. To him, it was like a last aura of calm before entering the unknown. He wondered if the designers had purposely made it so.

By this time Riker and the others had stepped onto the pad and were ready to transport. "We will go into two groups, Data, you and I will go together while Deanna, Beverly and Worf search as a group. Energize." Riker stated crisply.

Worf felt the strange, almost prickly sensation of having his molecules transported. As he re-materialized, his nose was assailed by the sickly smell of rotting corpses. The sultry air was filled with it. He swallowed as he felt his gorge rise and looked around.

They stood in the middle of a once beautifully crafted, but now charred plaza. It had obviously been the place of some sort of mass execution, for twisted bodies lay everywhere. The cobbles were blackened by fire, and crimson with blood. In the distance smoke from burning ruins striped the unnaturally blue sky. Males, females, children; laying in piles, tied together, or hanging from ropes off the walls. Against one pitted and blackened wall, there was an ominous pile of ash. The air was thick with the buzzing of flying insects.

Worf stared at the scene in horror. He had seen battles before, he had seen the aftermath of natural disasters, but never in his life had he ever seen evidence of such a senseless massacre. He turned around and looked at the other away team members. Beverly had her eyes closed, and one hand was covering her mouth. Deanna Troi's arms dangled by her sides, her face was white and her dark eyes were wide and frightened. Riker was grim, his eyes flat and his mouth a thin tight line. Even Data looked disgusted, or as close to disgusted as he could.

Data took out his tricorder. "They are all dead."

"Who could do such a thing? Who could do this?" Beverly asked.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out." Riker answered.

"We should find our survivor." Worf growled. He was so angry, he could barely think straight.

"I estimate these klingons have been dead more than sixty hours." Data answered with android detachment.

"Certainly smells like it." Riker quipped under his breath, his nose wrinkling.

"Do you think that the rest of the city is like this?" Deanna breathed.

"No." Riker answered.

Data agreed with Riker. "This building is the only building left intact on the planet. It would seem that the rest of the city was destroyed by phasor fire."

"Is this the palace?" Beverly asked, looking in awe at the building.

"No. The palace is, or was, about four kilometers to the west." Data replied.

"Let's enter the building. We will split up in the groups that I designated and try to find whoever is still alive. Be very careful. Whatever type of person who would do this might leave traps, so watch your step." Riker ordered.

Worf added, "Be careful approaching the survivor, assuming it is a survivor. They could be dangerous." He doubted anyone could live through this, and still be sane. He drew out his phasor and set it on light stun.

They divided into two groups and entered what must have been a villa. Dr. Crusher and Counselor Troi followed Worf silently as he stealthily prowled through the soundless halls. The walls were of gray, hewn stone bricks, covered with woven hangings, animal skins, or in some places mural paintings. The ceilings were very high, and were covered with a plaster-like substance, in some rooms they were painted with scenes depicting crashing starships, and klingons discarding useless, destroyed technology. In others, they showed farming, weaving, and other domestic pursuits.

The furniture was very simple. Much of it made of animal hides on wooden frames. There was very little damage to the furnishings of the mansion, and rather surprisingly, no bodies. There were several beautiful wooden carvings, many very old, depicting klingon males and females in different poses. They were poignant to see after the carnage in the outer plaza.

Deanna touched his arm. "Do you hear that?" She whispered. He stopped and listened a moment. Very faintly he could hear the sound of faint singing. Someone was crooning a bastardized version of the lullaby his mother had sang to him as a child. He narrowed his eyes and felt his insides constrict. Every few bars the singing was punctuated with a sob.

Worf gestured the two women to be silent, and to follow. He crept through an archway and followed another long passageway that entered a large room leading to an enclosed outside garden. He stopped short when he found his mysterious singer, and held a hand up to Beverly and Deanna to stop them.

She sat on the grass, her back to him. He could tell she was holding something in her arms. Her filthy, bloodstained, tattered garments barely hung on on her shoulders, and he could see she had been flogged unmercifully. The vicious wounds had been unattended and were terribly infected. A noose, hanging on a gnarled limb of the tree, swung slowly in the breeze, it's ominous presence chilling Worf's very soul.

As quickly as her singing began, it stopped. "Sleep, my darling, sleep, for in the morning you must awaken. We will find your father in the morning." She burbled in klingon. Her voice was raspy; brittle, with the happy, rather childlike sound of someone whose sanity had long fled. Worf doubted this miserable creature would ever be the same again.

"Little mother," Worf said gently in klingon, "Little mother, we are here to help you."

She turned around instantly, Worf was disgusted, but not surprised to see that her face was covered by oozing bruises and sores. There was a small trickle of blood running from her right eye, and her mouth was a scared "O". She clutched her ragged bundle to her chest and shuffled up against the wall, all the while keeping her terrified eyes on Worf. Her robe was open, and Worf noticed that her chest was a mottled, bruised mass. One filthy, swollen hand was was caked with congealing blood, looking more like a slab of raw meat than a hand. Her legs were striped with vicious parallel scratches, that could only have been caused by fingernails.

"Don't hurt me anymore. Can't you leave me alone?" She moaned pitifully in klingon.

"We are here to help you." He replied. "Is that your child?" Worf saw that her bundle was a boy about Alexander's age, and by the marks on the boy's neck, and the blood on his body, he was very obviously dead. The boy's face was peaceful in death. Worf hoped that the boy had not suffered to long. A nagging part of his brain whispered that wishful thinking. Whoever had been involved in these atrocities had been an master of suffering, a student of sadism.

"He is just asleep. He will wake up soon. Please don't hurt him anymore. I will do anything you ask, tell you whatever you want to know, but believe me when I tell you that I don't know anything." She continued to skitter up to the wall, and never took her eyes off Worf. Her face became that of the hunted. The small body she grasped to her now shivering body with strength born of desperation. Her lifeline to a better time, before the horror of the last seventy hours had began.

"We have to get her up to sick bay, Worf." Beverly said anxiously.

He turned to the Doctor. "I realize that, but I don't want to startle her."

"She is going to die if I can't help her!" Crusher's tone was urgent.

Worf nodded then turned to the klingon. "Little mother, let us help you with your wounds. We want to heal you, not hurt you!"

The woman's battered head shook. "No! No more ghosts! No more ghosts. And the angels have forsaken me. Kah'less has forsaken me." Her words were slow and steady.

"We are not angels, or ghosts, but we do want to help you. Let us help you, little mother." Worf took a steady step forward. Beverly's words of this woman's impending death were slowly galvanizing him into action.

"She doesn't believe you, Worf. She thinks that you are one of her attackers. Her mind is screaming deceit. She is terrified of you. Her mental state is a shambles." Deanna added, shuddering.

Worf nodded and continued to the woman in Klingon. "We aren't going to hurt you, or your boy, Little Mother."

She started to shake uncontrollably, and a tear rolled down her grimy face. "No. It's a trick. you are one of them. This is a trick. Don't torture me like this. Leave me alone, or kill me. I will be dead soon. I just want to see Ze'Hestral wake up before I go. See his eyes again. Don't hurt him again. Please don't hurt him again." The woman sucked in a breath, and winced, "Hurt me, I submit to you, do whatever you want to me, Just don't hurt my poor baby. He is young, he is innocent of whatever I did that angered you. He's just a baby. Just a baby. So small, so young." She moaned and shut her eyes, her labored weeping tearing at Worf.

"Little mother, I am not like those who did this to you. I am from the United Federation of Planets. Starfleet. I want to help you!" He urged passionately.

"You are one of them. Go away! You did before, or did you? I didn't fall asleep. I can't sleep! What would Ze'Hestral do if I was asleep? He would be confused." She looked at him beseechingly, and wrung her hands, which were still around the small body. "I am just waiting for him to wake up. It shouldn't be long now, he has been asleep for such a long time now. He never sleeps this long. He has to go to his father. His father will be looking for us. He went for help when they came. I know he is looking for us! Have you seen him?" At Worf's negative she continued, shrilling accusingly, "That is because you killed him! Murderer! Death in the night! Oh will it ever stop. Mysca, and GraH'nor, slaughtered for no reason, because of me, because of something I didn't know. And you did it. Go away. Please! Haven't you done enough? I won't live long. I can't move. I can't sleep! Isn't your revenge complete? Won't you put me out of my misery?" She moaned suddenly, "Oh why won't it end? Why won't the nightmare end? Why can't I wake up?" She turned abruptly to her child and spoke brokenly, "Please, Ze'Hestral, You can wake up now. I will keep you safe. It's all right. It is daylight now. It's time to play. When we find your father, maybe we can go on a picnic. You would like that. You always want to go play in the woods." She began to croon the old Klingon lullaby again.

Riker and Data came up behind Worf. "We have to get out of here. Let's get her and go." Riker said.

With Riker's voice she opened her eyes and stared at him. Her eyes went blank and she started to scream. Worf's chest reverberated with the hollow piercing noise. It chilled him to his very soul. It was the sound of one lost. Beverly rushed forward, her hypo spray in hand. She pushed it into the Klingons neck, and the woman slumped forward.

Deanna groaned and slumped against the wall. Riker turned around. "Are you all right?" He asked, putting an arm around her.

Troi shook her head. "I could control what I received of her thought's until you arrived, but then I just couldn't tune it out. She thought that you were the devil himself. What ever Worf said that she was very skeptical of turned to disbelief when she saw you."

Riker looked sheepish and nodded. He Tapped his communicator badge, Riker to Enterprise, six to beam up. Beam Dr. Crusher and our survivor directly to sickBay."

Worf stayed focused on the slumped Klingon, and her dead son. His eyes burned the image into his brain. His heart hardened. He would find who did this, and they would pay. Dearly.

Upon beam-up Worf went up to the bridge and relieved the Lieutenant who was manning tactical. He buried himself in routine diagnostics tests and sensor checks. The menial labor was soothing to his troubled mind and he let it wash over him. He tried to forget what he had seen, but it went through his mind, over and over again. The smell, the sight. It plagued him. The carnage on the planet below was a nightmare. It was a sight that he would never be able to erase from his mind.

He ran a count of the number of photon torpedoes in the bays, but didn't pay any attention to the results. His brain was centered on the woman who was in surgery in sick bay. Her image was glued to his retinas. Over and over in his ears he could hear her plaintive "Please don't hurt me anymore", her screams, the way she held her dead son. It made him remember Khitomer, only for him it was the other way around, The screaming son holding on to his dead mother.

She seemed so young, so helpless, sitting there in that garden, perhaps knowing what was outside the house. That death and destruction. Worf wondered about her mate. If he wasn't dead previous to this, he was certainly dead now. How had he treated her? Had he loved his mate? Had he loved his son?

The detective in him made him ask more questions. Why of an entire planet was she the only survivor? How had she escaped notice long enough to escape? Why was she in the house. Why was her son murdered, yet she lived? And why did she ask Worf if he had had enough? And wasn't his revenge complete? There were too many questions that didn't fit. It Didn't make any sense!

A light tap on worf's shoulder brought him out of his revere. It was Data. "Lt. Worf, I am curious as to why you have now run ten level four diagnostic procedures in a row. Is there some problem with the equipment?"

"No, sir. I was.." He thought a moment, "I was distracted. I am sorry sir. It won't happen again." Worf said emphatically.

Data nodded sagely, and then turned as Captain Picard and Commander Riker emerged from the Captains Ready Room. "Mr. Data, Mr. Worf, will you come us into the observation lounge for a staff meeting. Dr. Crusher has finished her surgery and is prepared to give us her full diagnosis of the survivor's status." Said Picard as he and Riker walked up towards the door into the lounge. Worf and Data followed as told.

Dr. Beverly Crusher looked haggard. Her usually alive hair looked dull and lifeless, her skin was pale and there were lines of strain around her eyes and mouth. Deanna Troi was beside the Doctor. She looked up and smiled wanly at Riker.

When they are all seated around the table, Picard looked at the doctor. "Well, how is our visitor resting?"

"I have her heavily sedated. She won't wake up until I want her to. Frankly, I am disgusted, more than disgusted. I have never seen such a mess of a living body in my life. Internal damage was extensive- seven broken ribs, a punctured lung, major bruising to the liver and kidneys. Her spleen has been ruptured. Minor concussion. The external damage is another list that would make the Marquis de Sade proud." She shook her head. "I have never seen anything like it."

"Abuse? How so?" Picard was curious.

"Captain, she was raped, by more than one male. I would guess between six and ten. She was beaten, she was flogged, on her back, on her thighs, and on her feet." She held up one hand. "The fingernails on her right hand were completely ripped out. The list goes on."

Worf inhaled very deeply, trying to be calm. He concentrated for a moment trying to make his lungs as full as possible. His ability to hold onto his temper was rapidly deteriorating. He wanted blood.

"What are you saying, Dr.?" Riker asked.

"Very specific injuries. A very purposeful torture. These injuries were very deliberate and defiantly planned. The work of a monster, and based on the autopsies that Dr. Silar is working on, different from the injuries on the victims in the plaza. None of the other victims were flogged, no others were raped." She looked very deliberately at each of the officers at the table. "Based on this evidence, I would guess that our visitor was very deliberately left alive, and was the victim of a very specialized torture regime. Considering the state we found her in, I doubt that she would have lived through another night, her body was extremely dehydrated. In my professional opinion, it was only because she was extremely healthy, and the fact that as a klingon, she has all those redundant organs that she managed to live this long."

"Were you able to determine the identity of her attackers?" Worf asked very quietly. He had to know. One answer, an answer to any question. But not the one the doctor was to give. Anyone, any group, any answer!

"Oh yes." Beverly nodded. She leaned forward. "They were klingon."

Any group but them.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

Worf entered his quarters. His shift was over. The staff meeting was over. He could relax. Yes, relax. Spend some time with his son. He smiled ruefully to himself. That was if Alexander was speaking to him. Worf admitted to himself that he had been a tad short with his son in the hours before the Enterprise's arrival at Caltiras. Worf's smile faded. He didn't even want to think of the planet below.

"Alexander? I'm back." He sat down in his special chair, and let his hair out. He was defiantly going to enjoy a shower before he went to bed. He felt soiled all over. His eyes were dry and gummy. "It seems all I want to do these days is sleep. What is wrong with me?" He said under his breath. He breathed in the dry enterprise air, and looked out at the stars, the big, seemingly empty cosmos.

"Oh, hello, Father. How was your day?" Alexander asked, walking in from the bedroom.

"It was," He paused. "Very long. How would you like to go and spend some time in the holodeck with me. We can practice that new exercise simulation we've been working on?"

"Well, OK. I didn't think that you were going to have time for me, not with the evacuation on the planet below." Alexander replied. "I will go change."

"And so will I." Worf walked into his quarters and carefully, yet quickly shed his uniform and put it into the clothing reprocesser. He put on an exercise suit and arrived back in the living room about the same time as Alexander. "Did you put your clothing away?" Alexander looked slightly guilty, and Worf was about to give him a reprimand, when something made him stop. "Will you clean up when we return to our quarters?" His son nodded and they were off.

Holodeck four was not in use when they arrived, and Alexander was quick to load his favorite program of Holodeck monsters. Worf rolled his eyes when he saw the fearsome looking skeletons and zombies. His son had been reading ghost stories again.

"Coming father? Computer, run program." Alexander grabbed a _batlh'etlh_ and jumped into the fray.

Not to be out done by his son, Worf grabbed another of the ceremonial klingon swords and joined in. He was very proud of the way his son fought. Alexander had picked up the ritualistic movements like a natural. In a few years his son would be a very tough opponent. What Alexander needed was strength and size, and only years would bring those.

They fought together for close to an hour. Suddenly Worf started to feel extremely strange. The comical, fake looking undead monsters that they were fighting slowly began to resemble the bodies on the planet below. Foreheads changed and became klingon skulls, and the zombies looked horribly real. He tried to shake the battle lust from his mind, but it was no use. As much as he tried, he could not rid his over tired mind of the hallucinations.

They were surrounding him, shrieking at him with silent mouths. "You did this to us!"

"No!" He screamed in klingon. "It wasn't me! I didn't do it! Leave me be!" They crowded around him and he put his face in his hands to hide his face from the screeching visages. "I want to avenge you. I didn't do it!"

"No! You murderer! You honorless fiend! How DARE you? You killed us!"

One particular image swam in front of his eyes. It was the woman. "Please don't hurt me and my son!" She pleaded.

"I didn't hurt you! I want to help you! Please believe me!"

"Father! What is wrong?"

Worf looked up, disoriented. There were no monsters. The holodeck was blank and Alexander was urgently shaking him.

"I am fine. I am sorry, son." He stood up. Alexander was young, but perhaps he was old enough to understand. "Alexander, you will have to forgive me. I saw some things today I wish I hadn't, and it has made me feel, well, uncomfortable." He was really talking to himself. What he had seen on Caltiras, or SoS had been gruesome, and the sight was beginning to awaken a leviathan of memories of Khitomer. That day after the Romulan attack seemed almost surreal to him, like a bad childhood nightmare. What was on the planet below was real, horrifyingly real. A sleeping part of him began to awaken. A part that needed a reason why, and craved vengeance. He felt sullied, knowing that fellow klingons had committed the innumerable crimes on the planet below, and he desperately wanted to know how he could take such a stain off his honor, and the honor of his people.

"I understand Father. Do you want to go back to our quarters, now?" Alexander asked.

"Do you mind if we stop somewhere first?"

"No." Alexander shook his head.

Worf took his sons hand and looked at the face that so resembled his. "I want you to know that I am very proud of you, my son, and that I am happy to have you with me." Alexander beamed and they left.

They walked through a few corridors and entered the turbolift. "Sickbay." Worf said. When the doors opened they walked across the hall and into the Sickbay. As it was 'evening', sickbay was dimly light. Worf walked passed treatment area and into the intensive care ward. The only occupant was the female klingon that Riker had given the old earth name, 'Jane Doe' to.

He leaned down to Alexander and whispered "Stay here." With his son's slightly mutinous nod, he walked over to the biobed. The change of appearance in 'Jane' was remarkable.

Worf was struck by how pretty she was. By klingon standards, perhaps, she might have been considered too delicate, not strong enough. Her forehead was lightly rippled, her eyebrows not terribly protruding. Her hair had been braided and framed her face softly on one side.

She didn't look at all like the tormented, haunted creature he had seen on the planet below, and as usual he was rather awed by the modern medical technology that the Federation possessed. If only they could bring back the dead. If only mental scars healed so quickly.

He gently took up her hand. "I will avenge you, and your family." He said in klingon. "I fill find out who did this and why, and then I will use every means at my disposal to root them out and bring them to justice. I will make them pay for what they have done to you, little mother." He stared at her for a long minute. Her peaceful face, her even breathing. If only it was a real sleep, not a drug induced one. If only she didn't have to wake up and find herself all alone in the universe. He wished he could spare her that agony. He knew the painful realities of being the sole survivor of a dead world.

"Good evening, Worf." Jean-Luc Picard walked up to stand beside him.

Worf quickly laid 'Jane's hand by her side. "Captain, I just came to see how she was doing." He said gruffly.

"Understandable. I am here for the same reason. " Picard replied.

"Well, I shouldn't leave Alexander out there. Good-Night Captain." Worf said.

"Wait a moment, Worf; Beverly is talking to him, and I want to talk to you a moment. I want you to go and see Counselor Troi." When Worf began to protest, Picard held up his hand. "It isn't just you, I am having everyone on that away mission talk to her. I have been in similar situations, and I know that seeing such bloodshed can do strange things to a person's peace of mind. I think it is doubly important for you because this was done to your own kind, by your own kind." Picard narrowed his green eyes speculatively. "I am not trying to single you out Mr. Worf, I just want to help."

"I understand, Sir." Worf replied grudgingly, thinking of the episode in the Holodeck. Changing the topic he asked "Has she been awake since she was brought on board?"

"Beverly brought her out about an hour ago, and I saw her then." Picard grimaced. "I tried to ask her a few questions in klingon, but it was no use. According to Troi, she is terrified of me, and of males in general. She will barely let female staff near her. I couldn't understand what she mumbled at me because it was all in SoSian klingon which eludes me."

"That is odd, for on the planet she spoke standard klingon." Worf scowled.

"That reminds me, another piece to our puzzle is that 'Jane' is not SoSian. All of the SoSian bodies that Dr. Silar has autopsied have a slightly varied 'X' chromosome. 'Jane' has standard klingon physiology. At some point, she came from the Modern empire. In her tissue samples there is evidence that she had a disease particular to SoS, and the residue is over eleven years old." Picard said.

"But that would be before the discovery of the planet!" Worf exclaimed.

"Exactly. We definately have a mystery on our hands."

"So now what do we do?" Worf asked.

"I talked to Admiral Trevenne at Starfleet command. He is nervous to press any immediate action. This could cause a serious interstellar incident, if we start accusing the empire of committing such an atrocity. He wants us to stay here and collect clues until the Farringdon arrives, in forty-eight hours. As we are due to visit the klingon home world in just under a month, we are to proceed according to our normal schedule. At that point we are to pass the matter into Gowron's hands, and let him deal with it." Picard finished.

"The trail will be cold if we leave it a month. I don't like it sir."

"Neither do I, Lieutenant; however, I, too must follow my orders." The captain's tone was distasteful. " And, I, too like answers, Worf. I don't like to leave loose strings, but this," He gestured faintly to the sleeping woman in front of them, "this is now falling out of my hands. I give you two months to find out what you can from her. It won't be easy, but I have every confidence that you will ferret out the mystery. What I wonder now is, what should we do with the dead?" Picard turned to Worf and watched him in a way that made Worf feel like a beetle under a glass.

"Burn them. It is the only thing to do. With your permission, I would like to supervise such a thing. I would like to make sure it is done right. I believe that the SoS people deserve an honorable send off to _Stovokhor_. They deserve it, I only wish there was more I could do to atone for the sins against them." He answered.

"I didn't think that klingons did such things, Mr. Worf, I thought that once the soul was gone, the body was merely a dead shell."

"We burn our heroes." He said simply.

"I understand. I will leave the matter entirely in your hands. Commander Riker has arranged for a clean up crew. You can start at O-Nine hundred hours." Picard smiled very faintly. "After breakfast."

"Thank you sir. I guarantee you, Captain, I will find the answers." Worf vowed. He looked one last time at the sleeping woman in front of him. In klingon he said, "Good-night, Little mother." He looked up at Picard, who was watching him strangely, and said in english, "Good-night sir."

"Good-night, Lieutenant."

Worf turned around and walked through sickbay until he got to Beverly's office. She was discussing something with Alexander. He waited until she was finished, lost in thought.

A month to find out why, and then it gets dumped in Gowron's hands. That didn't sit well with Worf. There was something about Gowron that he instinctively didn't trust. Admittedly, Gowron had been beneficial to the Empire, and Gowron's personal power mongering had been curbed slightly since the arrival of Emperor Kahless, but there was something about Gowron that set Worf's teeth on edge. No, Worf would find the answers in a month. He would find who destroyed SoS and make them pay.

"Well, here is your father, Alexander." Beverly finished. "Hello Worf. You should get some sleep. You're looking very tired."

Worf rolled his eyes. "I feel like that is all I have heard for the last week. I am not tired." He rubbed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. He wasn't tired. Tired was too much of an understatement. He was bone weary. All Worf wanted to do was curl up and die in a nice, quiet corner. Hell, he thought to himself, he had even been hallucinating. He never hallucinated, not even when he was drunk. Tired was definitely too much of an understatement.

Beverly got up from behind her desk and walked over to him with a tricorder. She flipped it open and waved it around him. "Ah-ha!" She exclaimed. "According to this you are tired. Suffering from fatigue and lack of sufficient nutrient." She took her best scolding tone. "Worf, you know that you need your sleep. You also know that you should eat healthier. I bet that you didn't sleep at all during that sixty-three hours off that the Captain gave you."

"I did sleep, you meddling woman. Now leave me alone." He sighed defeatedly.

The doctor narrowed her eyes at the klingon. While staring into his eyes, she addressed his son. "How much did he sleep, Alexander?"

Worf held her eyes. "If you know what is good for you, you will keep quiet, boy." He said evenly.

Alexander seemed to relish the idea of his father in trouble. "Maybe six hours!" He piped up, in what Worf thought was an annoyingly shrill voice.

Worf groaned. "Betrayed on every front."

"Go have a big dinner, and then go to bed, Lieutenant!" Beverly smiled good naturedly.

Worf screwed up his face into his fiercest scowl. "You should take your own advice, Doctor. You don't look exactly like the queen of the winter carnival yourself."

"You can't intimidate me that way Worf, and besides, it is only June. I am; however, the chief medical officer. It would look bad on my record if you passed out at tactical." Beverly grinned, but in some ways her light attitude seemed a little forced. "I am just covering my behind, Lieutenant. Besides, in your present physical condition, your brain might start playing tricks with you. You might even hallucinate for all I know, and as I am a doctor, I know quite a bit."

Worf felt himself go slightly green. "Mmm. Let's go Alexander. I will replicate us some nice fresh Rowkeg blood pie." He looked over at the doctor and ignored Alexander's noise of disgust. Beverly rolled her eyes and waved at him. He turned and walked out of the room, and with his son, returned to his quarters.

As he left he heard her call out, "I said nourish yourself, not poison yourself!"


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Worf beamed down to the planet at 8:50 the next morning. He wanted to get another look around before the clean up crew arrived. The sun had risen only half an hour ago and the sky was still dark and hazy. He liked the early morning. With a new day always came a sense of renewal, rebirth. He looked around the square. Sadly, there would be no rebirth here.

In the gentle light of dawn, the plaza did not look as horrific as it had the day before. The blood wasn't so visible, and the insects had yet to show themselves. The corpses were like sleeping people, and a way they were, sleeping in the arms of death. They were now souls in the care of the real Kahless, in Stovokhor. He looked at the sun, and at the moon, which was a mere crescent sitting on the horizon. Somewhere out there, he thought.

Carrying the case he had beamed down with, as well as his _batlh'etlh_ , he walked over to a chunk of rubbled column. He put the sword down, laid the case flat on the top, and opened it. Inside was his formal gray cloak as well as some religious incense, and a large piece of purple silk he had replicated earlier. After making sure that he hadn't forgotten anything, he put the case aside and picked up his _batlh'etlh_ and stroked the leather bound handle. His father had died with this sword in hand. Worf himself had killed Durass with it. It had seen much in it's life. The _batlh'etlh_ itself was over thirteen generations old.

Worf heard the sound of the transporter behind him, put the sword down on top of the case and turned around. Two groups of five men beamed down. In one of those groups was Geordi LaForge. Worf yelled out some cursory orders to get the crews moving. He told them to start stacking bodies over in a corner, near the remains of a small fountain.

LaForge spotted Worf and walked over. "I don't believe this, and I can't even totally see it!"

"It isn't pretty." Worf said mildly, his mind adjusting to the horror.

"I guess not. Is this where you found the girl?"

Worf gestured over with his head. "No. We found her in the house."

"Ah. I see. Look, the captain sent me down to see if you needed anything replicated. Do you need any help?"

Worf thought about it for a minute. "Actually, can you make a wooden pyre? Maybe ten meters square? A meter high, and made of logs? Filled with a highly flammable material inside?"

"Yep. No problem." Geordi looked around, and pointed at one of the corners of the walled square. "If you can get the bodies out of there, I can send down a nice little set up for you. In about an hour?"

"I think that we can have that area cleared out by then." Worf looked at LaForge. "I want to be finished by noon. This place smells very bad in the afternoon, when it gets really hot."

Geordi pulled at his collar and looked at the sun. "It is already starting to warm up. I saw that it hit thirty degrees here yesterday afternoon. you had better get busy."

Worf nodded. "Yes, I know. I don't think that even I could handle that smell again. I am glad that the rest of the island is not like this."

"Data and I beamed into The city of Kryzanti before sunset last night. There is nothing but a tar pit where the city stood, same as beyond the walls of this place. It is obviously the work of a very powerful phasor system, and the gunner who did this city had a very skilled hand, actually Data ran an analysis on the way this area has been left, and the firing coordinates had to be exact. Only a very sophisticated targeting computer could have left an area as perfectly untouched as this." Geordi pointed out.

"What are you saying?"

"It was done by a klingon battle cruiser. I have confirmed that by the spectral analysis that I ran on the atmosphere before I beamed down. There are light Terillium traces in the upper Ionosphere. As you know, Terilluim is used only in klingon environmental systems as a bactericide. Our mystery murderer pressure cleaned his bilges.

" That's it' though. Whoever did this was very good at covering all traces of his being here, no warp field traces or anything like that. I'm pretty impressed. They must have traveled much of the journey on impulse engines to leave no tracks. I ran across the Terillium rather by accident. I was doing a routine scan of our hull and came across some Terillium molecules clinging to the left warp nacelle. The sensors registered them as foreign and potentially corrosive, and then I just followed the trail."

"A fluke?" Worf raised an eyebrow.

"Something like that." Geordi grinned, and then looked around. "I should let you get back to your job. Look's like you have your work cut out for you."

"It is a grisly business."

"Mm." LaForge grabbed Worf on the shoulder. "Hey Worf, I understand this must be a little difficult for you. If you need anyone to talk to, you know where I am."

"Thank you, Geordi, but I am fine."

"I understand. Just wanted to let you know that I was here." Commander LaForge tapped his communicator pin, "Anyhow, LaForge to Enterprise, one to beam up." A shimmering instant later he was gone.

Worf stared at where his friend had been a moment ago. Good friends were hard to find, and LaForge was a true one. They didn't have much in common, but they had enough.

He turned and started moving bodies along with the rest of the work crews. There were fifty-six in all. They were all ages, and sizes. Around about 10am, LaForge beamed down the pyre. it looked like a log cabin with a flat roof. It was exactly what Worf had wanted.

It was not long after, that Worf found the dismembered pieces of Qang Toloth. The klingon leader had been ripped apart. Worf grimaced and moved the moldering body parts over to the pyre himself. He realized that this was the father of the klingon woman's son, for the facial resemblance was uncanny.

As he picked up Toloth's head, a large beetle fell out of the mouth. It was enough to make him, a seasoned warrior, lose his breakfast. Worf felt ashamed, but that didn't do anything to get rid of the queasy feeling in his stomach. He knew that two member's of the cleaning crew had already disgraced themselves. He wanted to set a better example.

"At least I have seen almost everything there is to see inside the klingon body." He muttered to himself.

A young, dark haired midshipman walked by Worf. "I know all I ever want to know about Klingon anatomy, now. Sir." He added hastily. Worf nodded and ground his teeth. He couldn't blame the young man. He was beginning to prefer the innocence of such knowledge himself. He was developing a keener respect for what medical students went through.

They finished loading the bodies on the pyre by eleven-thirty. The sun was high in the sky, and so was the smell. Strange leathery avians swirled in the sky overhead, and tried to dive at the bodies, but they were deterred by the men working.

Worf walked over to his briefcase and took out the violet silk. He walked over to the burly old chief petty officer, who was the leader of the gang. "Chief Yablik, if you and the men will spread this over the bodies for me, you can all head up to the ship."

"Aye Sir." The old man nodded and reverently took the cloth. Worf's esteem for the man rose a notch.

"You men were all volunteers, weren't you?" Worf asked.

Again the old man nodded. "Aye, again sir. We heard 'bout what happened, and we volunteered. No one should go without a proper sendoff. Learned that on Danilla VI. Was just like this, there. For me, I had to do what was right."

"Thank-you, Chief Yablik. I appreciate it." Worf felt uncomfortable, as much with the situation as with what he had to do now. He felt the old man's eyes bore into his back as he pivoted back to his case and drew out his robes. He slipped his arms into them and arranged the decorations on the lapels. He was proud of his robes. Each medallion a badge of honor, his honor. He had earned every one of them, and yet, today, they didn't offer him much comfort.

He turned around and walked through the haunted villa. Worf himself scoffed at the spirits of his people, but he had a healthy enough respect of the unknown to feel odd in this place of death. He moved toward the back of the mansion, his dull gray robes swishing around his feet with every step.

It was cool inside the house. The stone walls were a shelter from the heat of the day. The halls echoed with his footsteps, yet in a strange, eerie way they seemed muffled. He didn't like it here, and he would be very happy when the Enterprise left this place.

The garden was as he remembered it. A small brick wall around the garden and the patio. He noticed the small deciduous trees and shrubs and the flower beds along the edge of the wall. This was a woman's garden. It had a distinctly female touch to it.

In the middle of the garden lay the boy where he had fallen when the transporter had ripped his mother away. He was spralled partially on his back, partially on his side, with his arms were stretched out, above his head and in front of his body. There was a suffering twist to his body that seemed to some up the whole situation of this planet. Here was a dead little boy, who would never see another sunset, who would never see another dawn. His short hair covered his innocent peaceful face. A face that resembled the peaceful face in sick bay.

Worf walked over and gently, ever so tenderly, picked the boy up in his arms. "Come with me, Ze'Hestral. I am going to take you to your father." The wind suddenly whipped around him, and he looked at the child. He raised a thick eyebrow and asked himself if this was some sort of sign. He snorted and shook his head. He was just being maudlin.

He marched purposefully back through the house and came out to see the pyre covered and the men all standing at attention around it.

"'Tention!" Yablik barked, and they all clicked their heels together. Worf was touched. He placed his small burden on top of the silk and stood back a ways. He went to his case and grabbed the four incense cones, and his _batlh'etlh_. He put a cone on each of the pyre's corners and lit them. They burned slowly, each trailing a small bit of black smoke into the sky.

"Dismissed." He said to Yablik, and he watched as the work crews went back up to the enterprise. He felt better once they had gone. There were a few things he had yet to do, and he didn't want an audience. Things such as this were best done alone.

He watched the smoke go up and up. It seemed that everything went back to the stars in the end. These klingons would go back to the sky from which they came. In a few decades the forests would reclaim the cities and it would be as if they had never been at all. It was a sad ending to someone's brave new world. It made Worf wonder what made these people's ancestors travel so many light years to get here. It also made him wonder how they managed to get so far away on the power that was to be had then. Perhaps it didn't matter now. They were all gone now. The only person remaining was a sick, defeated woman in sick bay who may or may not ever recover. Worf wasn't about to hold his breath waiting for that.

The first of the incense cones exploded and snapped Worf out of his reverie. The edges of the silk caught fire and slowly began to be consumed. He held up his _batlh'etlh_ and screamed, " _TlhInganmey! Batlh Daqawlu'taH"_ Klingons! You will be remembered with honor. He shouted it again and again until he was hoarse. It was a litany. A prayer. He inhaled and let out the death howl.

It came from the bottom of his soul and proceeded upwards to his mind. It was filled with all the feelings he had been feeling for the past day. Anger. Frustration. Confusion. Sadness. It soothed him, and healed him. Worf had now sent the SoSains on their way to Stovokhor, and he had adequately warned Kahless' servants that klingon warriors were on the way to his hall.

Worf lowered his sword and held it in both hands, staring at the flames that gnawed greedily at the offering. He watched the pyre burn down for along time. So absorbed was he that he did not hear someone creeping up behind him. When he felt the touch on his shoulder he whirled around, _batlh'etlh_ in hand, sinking into a defensive crouch. His warrior instincts were aroused and he had almost skewered his opponent when he realized that it was Deanna Troi.

"Don't ever do that!" He growled, his heart pumping fiercely.

Her eyes were wide at his sudden reaction. "I am sorry. I did call your name. I didn't mean to startle you."

He nodded and turned back to the fire. "Mm." He stayed silent.

"It has been two hours since the crews came up. The captain was beginning to worry." She said, taking a step to walk up beside him.

Two hours? Where had the time gone? "Am I needed on the bridge?"

"No. Not at all." She was quiet, watching the fire with him. He wondered why she stayed. She probably thought he needed counseling. She probably was right, he thought sardonically, but he would never admit to the need.

"I sense your fury, Worf." She said simply, after a time.

"I am fine, counselor." He shifted his stance, planting his heels firmly into the ground.

"I sense your confusion, your guilt, and your grief. You're allowed to be angry, Worf. It's all right." She continued gently.

"I am glad we agree on something." He muttered under his breath.

"I said that you are allowed to be angry, but you can't let it consume you. You have changed much in the past few days, Worf. Your emotions are so strong that I can't block you out. You want blood, and I can understand it, but don't let revenge be your motivation."

"Revenge is a dish best served cold. A klingon proverb." He stated flatly.

"If I go by what 'Jane' said yesterday, it was revenge that started all this." She replied quietly. He clamped his teeth together and inhaled deeply. "You are going to ground your teeth into stubs if you don't tell me what you are feeling. I can't help you Worf, not if you don't help me."

He rounded on her fiercely. "What am I supposed to say? Do? I find that my own people have slaughtered another group of my own people, and I am supposed to just get up and go on?"

"Yes. We all have to go on. That is the way that life works, Worf, and I know you know that. I know because I saw you get up and go on after Keh'lhar was murdered. I saw you get up and go on after your honor was stripped from you. I saw you get up and go on after the civil war. What happened here on Caltiras, Worf, it was horrible. It was barbaric, and it was graphic, and I know it gave me nightmares last night, but you have to get up and go on."

"Deanna, I-" He stopped, not knowing what to say. They watched the fire burn for a while. It crackled merrily, tranquilly. There wasn't much more left. Just the logs.

"She woke up this morning. Beverly let her wake up. She lied there a while, silent, and then started to cry. I didn't even know that klingons allowed themselves to cry." She spoke almost wistfully.

"We don't." He said automatically.

Deanna smiled faintly. "She does. And then she stopped, and spoke. I couldn't understand her, but I went and I listened. You can learn much from tone of voice. I believe she was talking about her son. She knew he was dead. She was resigned to it. I think that she will recover, fairly quickly, even."

"Her mind will be whole?" He asked quietly.

"I think so, but whole is such a subjective term. She will never be the way she was, her experiences will have changed her; however, I don't think that she is insane. No, it will take time before she is, what you or I might consider "normal". Nobody would be, not right away. It takes a long time for someone to regain their piece of mind, especially after such a violent crime as rape or murder. Worf, she has already started the process of getting up and moving on, and she has a long way to get up, and will have a hard time to move on.

"Your honor and sensibilities might have been offended here, but you haven't lost anything. 'Jane' lost her whole life. Her home, her family. As I said, your own anger is perfectly justified, but don't let it become a wall inside of you. You have to heal."

"You act as if I am some kind of wounded animal, counselor!" His voice hardened again. He flared his nostrils as he smelled the smoke. It filled him with a primitive anger.

"As much as you would deny it, you are. This has shocked you to the core, and it is eating you alive. Alexander told me about what happened in the holodeck last night. Worf! Listen to me. let the anger go. You can't find the answers if you are too emotionally involved." She said sternly, yet gently.

"I, uh, your-" He didn't know what to say.

"Let's go, Worf. You have done everything that you can, here." .

"I feel that there is something missing from me, Deanna. I don't understand it. I no longer feel strong." There, it was out. He could feel his face color with shame. "I am weak." He murmured brokenly.

"Worf, you are one of the strongest people that I know. You just keep all the horror and the hurt inside, and it builds. It isn't very good for you. I think you have been alone so long that you don't even realize you are anymore." She paused and continued when he said nothing. "Everyone needs someone to lean on during there lives."

"I this all reminds me of Khitomer. I don't really understand why, this place and Khitomer are really nothing alike. " His words were quiet, barely audible over the fire which burning down quite fast. The heat of the fire, coupled with that of the day was quite intense.

"Worf, don't dwell on it. You can't change what happened here anymore than you can change what happened at Khitomer. There was nothing you could do, then, but there is something you can do know. You can find out who did this and bring them to justice!" Retorted Counselor Troi.

"Human justice or Klingon Justice?" He smiled ruefully.

She looked at him strangely, her exotic eyes hard. "Which ever one will see true justice done. You look around and see the wreck of a civilization down here. I go back to the Enterprise, and I have to deal with the wreck of a person. I want who did this as much as you do, Worf. As I said, I understand your Anger. I just don't want it to interfere with the way you do your job."

He nodded. The fire was almost finished now. _"TlhInganmey! Batlh Daqawlu'taH"_ He said again before turning to Deanna. "Lets go home, Counselor Troi.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Worf stood in front of the door into sick bay and inhaled deeply. Beverly Crusher had just told him that 'Jane' was awake, and now he was going to be able to talk to her. He was more than a little nervous. He rubbed his dry palms together and looked through the windows in the sliding glass doors. Sick bay looked like it always did. He was just being irrational. Going to talk to 'Jane' was no different than going to talk to any other crime victim. As head of security he had questioned people before. But 'Jane' was different. He screwed up his courage and boldly walked through the doors and into Beverly's office.

"You called for me, Doctor?" He asked. He saw that she was sitting behind her desk, and Deanna Troi across from her. Troi smiled at him. He nodded at her. Somehow she and Worf seemed closer than ever since the talk they had that afternoon.

"Yes, sit down, Worf. We wanted to talk to you for a moment before you talked to 'Jane'." Beverly motioned him into the chair adjacent to the one Deanna was in.

"I understand. How is she?" Worf asked.

"Physically, she is fine. Everything has healed, or is healing nicely, but then I have always said that Klingons are great at bouncing back after injuries. And as for mentally..." She looked over at Troi.

"Mentally, I see some improvement. Her thought patterns are extremely coherent, and I sense she is beginning to feel safer here. She is not nearly so distrustful of us. She still won't let any of the male staff near her, or at least she puts up a fuss if they do, so we told them not to. She isn't even reacting when women go near." Troi supplied.

"What we wanted to tell you is that you are the first man that we have let near her since she saw the Captain. We don't know how she will react to you, Worf, and I want you to know that I am letting you see her against my better judgment. I think it is too soon. Troi, obviously doesn't." Beverly said as she tapped her long fingers on her shiny black desk.

"I didn't say that. I think it would be good for her." Deanna looked Worf fully in the face and gave him that look that said, and good for you too.

"Well, anyway Worf, at the first sign of trouble, I want you to leave. No questions asked." The doctor said as she got up out of her chair. Deanna also rose, and Worf followed the two women out of the room. They walked single file into the intensive care area, and Worf lingered under the archway, while Beverly roused 'Jane'.

'Jane' wore the dark blue suit of a sickbay patient, and she lay on the biobed with an iridescent blue sheet over top of her. Her extremely long hair was still braided. There was no evidence of the bruises on her face, but there was evidence of the bruises on her soul. Her eyes were wide and frightened and questioning, bordering on suspicious, and her mouth had lines of strain around it.

"Jane," Deanna said softly and gently, "We brought Lieutenant Worf to see you. He wants to ask you a few questions. He is not going to hurt you. If you want, he will go away." 'Jane' looked at Deanna, and Worf saw a glimmer of comprehension in her eyes, but it was gone before he was sure it was even there.

"Worf, come in, very slowly. Be non Threatening." Beverly said.

Non-threatening, he scoffed. What did she think he was going to do? Walk in with his phasor drawn? He inhaled deeply and took a few steps toward the bed. He looked at 'Jane'. She looked at him. She looked as if she was going to scream. He saw her throat bob as she swallowed, and realized that this wasn't going to work. He would give it a try, but he wasn't hopeful. It tore at him that she was so scared.

"Good Evening, Little mother." He said in klingon, very slowly and evenly. He hoped he had let a little warmth in his tone, but he was too nervous to be sure. He didn't want to frighten her.

Her eyes widened, and then narrowed. She looked like she was going to bolt. "I am not going to hurt you, little mother." He said trying to reassure her, but he doubted it was working. Her fists clenched into the sheet, her knuckles going white.

Finally she spoke, words that were spoken slowly, haltingly. "You won't hurt me." It was more of a statement, than a question. It was in Klingon, but it was spoken as if barely remembered.

"No. I won't hurt you, but please tell me who you are." He took another few steps forward.

She took a trembling breath, and another. Worf hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath. "I am Qing MaH'delyna. Was Qing MaH'delyna. I know not who I am now."

"I am Worf, Son of Mohg. Lieutenant in the Starfleet of the United Federation of Planets." He looked at Beverly and Deanna. "Her name or title would be Wife of the Chancellor, MaH'Delyna, or for ease, like the English, Magdelena."

Beverly turned to MaH'Delyna. "Magdelena?" She asked.

The Klingon woman nodded at Beverly, and then said to Worf, "Son of Mohg, do you know of my son?"

"He is with Kahless, in Stovokhor." He replied gently. "I am sorry."

"I know. I kept wishing for him to come to me, but a mother knows. He died, like a warrior." A tear slipped down her cheek. It was followed by another, and another. "They are all dead, aren't they?"

"Worf, what is she saying?" Beverly asked.

"She is asking about the planet." Worf switched back into Klingon. "I am sorry."

"Why?" She sobbed. "Why?" He reached over a tentative hand and took up hers. She hissed in her breath, and Beverly looked sharply at Worf. He didn't let go. MaH'Delyna looked at Worf's hand as if it were a snake. She started to tremble, but did not pull away. She tore her eyes off his hand and looked into his eyes. "Why do I trust you, when it was your kind, our kind, who did this?"

"I only want to help you." He paused, "I know what it is like to lose everything to violence."

"I don't want to be alive! I have nothing." She looked at him slowly. "I am a coward."

"It takes courage to live, Little mother. I-" Worf paused, unsure." I know that you have the courage to keep fighting. You are not a coward."

" But it 's all my fault, Son of Mohg. They would be alive if it weren't for me." She continued to sob brokenly.

"Who did this to you, MaH'Delyna?"

"I don't know. I see them, and then they are gone, like ghosts haunting my mind. Here then gone, taking everything I ever had away from me. Half formed images of fear and pain that reign over my dreams, I can't hear their words, and I can't see their faces, but I feel the pain, over and over again." He stiffened and she pulled away. Her eyes went wide and frightened, and they looked as if she was about to lapse back into insanity.

"No!" He said urgently. "I won't let you go away. Don't Hide from me! I didn't do this to you."

She let out a keening cry. "Why didn't you let me die with my son, than live this torturous life."

"Because I need answers, and you are the only one who can give them to me." He said flatly, with brutal frankness.

"I cannot answer what I don't remember." MaH'Delyna hugged her arms across her chest and shivered. "Go." She closed her eyes, and shuddered again. "Please, just go." When she opened her eyes again, they were empty of all intelligence.

"She is gone again." Deanna said quietly. "There is some place in her mind that is safe. I think she goes there when she remembers too much."

"Let's go see the captain." Beverly said to Worf and Deanna. They left the sterile sickbay and went up to the bridge, and into the Captain's ready room.

Captain Picard sat behind his black desk, a steaming cup of Earl Gray at his elbow and a PADD in his hand. He looked up, his grey-green eyes looking at each one in turn. "Doctor, Counselor, Lieutenant. You have something to report?"

"Worf talked to our visitor, just now." Beverly told the Captain.

"And?"

"Her name is MaH'Delyna. She was the mate to Qang Toloth. "Supplied Worf. "The boy on the planet was her and Toloth's son. She speaks imperial Klingon like one who learned it long ago and can hardly remember it, and she wants to die."

"A brief summing up if ever I heard one. What all did she tell you, Lieutenant." Picard ordered.

"She asked me the questions, Captain. I did not feel it appropriate to question her fully. When I did ask her a direct question, she said that she couldn't remember and broke down. She knows that she is the only survivor, and that her son is dead. She also said the disaster was all her fault." Worf spoke softly, replaying the conversation in his head. He scowled. "She said she did not remember who did it; however, she said I was like the ones who did it."

"Counselor?"

"MaH'Delyna was telling the truth, she couldn't remember. She didn't want to. It is a common occurrence for victims. They create a mental block and don't remember what happened to them. It is all part of the recovery process. Now MaH'delyna's is a very specialized case. I get the feeling that she remembers and forgets on purpose, and sometimes she slips back into a memory of before her attack. In a sense, her mind replays what happened, and that world becomes real to her." Deanna told him.

"Explain." Picard was curious.

"Somewhere, deep down in her brain she has created a place that is 'safe'. She probably started to go to this 'place' during her ordeal. When things became to much for her to bear, her conscious runs away, but sometimes, she can't get away to that safe place, and the memories take over, similar to a nightmare or a hallucination."

"Rather like a 'get away' switch." Beverly supplied.

Picard sipped his tea. "Would she remember things that she saw or heard during this 'away' time?"

"I don't know. In cases like this, it sometimes happens that the victim remembers, but it is fairly unusual. The eyes see, and ears hear, but the brain doesn't process anything." Deanna explained. "It also comes down to if the victim even wants to remember. MaH'delyna's brain has created this defense mechanism to keep herself sane. Due to the severity of her mental block, I don't think she would."

Worf glanced out of the Captain's window. He could see the planet below , looking so unsuspecting. MaH'delyna wanted to trust him, or so she said. It was a good step, he thought. Maybe when she did, he would be able to help her remember. He still wanted his answers. Nothing had changed that. "Captain," He said finally, "I would like to work with the counselor to help MaH'delyna remember. She told me that she wanted to trust me. I think," He paused, he was going out on a limb here. He wanted to phrase this just right so the two women would agree. "I think that if she can get to trust me, that it might help her remember. We have somethings in common, perhaps enough common ground to establish trust."

Beverly looked indecisive but that she was thinking about it, and Troi looked at him as if he had just grown two heads. He didn't take as a good sign. He sighed inwardly. Back to the proverbial drawing board. He looked at his feet, clasped his hands behind his back, and gently rolled back from the balls of his feet to his heels.

"Why didn't I think of it before! Worf, that's brilliant!" Troi exclaimed! It was his turn to look at her as if she had the extra head. "You can counsel her! If she can trust you, you who are the closest representative of those who hurt her, and I mean that as you are a klingon, and they were klingons, it might really help. You also understand her, which helps."

"It sounds good, in principle, Deanna, but Worf's presence visibly stresses her. Her heart rate goes up, blood pressure goes up. I don't know if it is such a good idea." Beverly tapped her lips with her fingertip. The Captain was silent. He appeared to be assessing Worf. He sipped his tea.

Troi sent the doctor a quelling look. "I don't think that if Worf was to say spend an hour or so with her, every few days, that the harm would outweigh the good it would do."

"You might have a point. MIGHT." The doctor conceded.

Deanna sent her another look. "Hush Beverly. Worf, I want to be able to understand everything she is saying, so I want you to arrange for the universal translator to be hooked up."

He nodded again but added, "She understands English."

Deanna made an affirmative motion. "I guessed that too."

The captain turned his little computer screen around. "I can confirm that, now that I know her name. Admiral Trevenne sent me this just before you arrived. This log was made seven years ago, when the Admiral himself went to open trade negotiations with the SoSian people. This log is the only recording we have of SoS, and their leaders. It isn't in the regular database." He pressed the button on the screen.

It showed a huge, intricately carved stone hall, rather resembling a medieval Earth cathedral, directly in front of the recording device there was a semicircular table with seven male Klingons seated around it. They were all wearing intricately embroidered shirts, each wearing a different color. Their hair was cut very short, not even reaching their shoulders. The klingons faces, which were all clean shaven, showed emotions ranging from distrust to friendliness. The Klingon at the center of the table wore a massive metal torc, while the other six wore carved bracers of the same metal. Qang Toloth was seated to the right of the klingon in the Torc. There were a series of chairs before the table, with a smaller table in front of them.

"Masters of intimidation." Beverly muttered.

Picard nodded. "That hasn't changed."

The admiral walked into the view of the device and extended his credentials. Toloth extended one bracered arm and snapped his fingers. From the far back of the hall, six massive green clad klingons escorted a veiled woman towards the table. Her dress was the same brilliant green as Qang Toloth's shirt. It appeared to be a flowing sheer silk over a darker material. It was very full, and even more embroidered than the men's blouses. Her masses of hair were braided into a wheel around her head and it framed her face like an ebony halo. The veil was attached to a metal diadem in her hair. The woman was very obviously pregnant, her flowing dress cascading over her distended stomach like a waterfall.

Her escort walked her as far as the horseshoe table and with the exception of one, went to line the walls of the hall. The green man and the lady continued around the table to stand in front of the Admiral. Her champion removed her veil, and then moved to stand behind Toloth.

It was MaH'delyna. She was very young, still in her middle adolescence. Her face was grave, but her eyes shined with excitement. She curtsied deeply, but not awkwardly, despite her size. "I am Qing MaH'delyna, mate to Qang Toloth and Interpreter to the King of SoS, His exalted and benevolent majesty, voDleH ValQIS." She turned and curtsied toward the klingon in the torc. He nodded to her, stood, and said something to the Admiral in SoSian. "His majesty, voDleH ValQIS sends his warmest welcome to the mighty Federation of Planets." Her accent was very strong, but the words were understandable.

Picard turned the screen around and shut it off. "Well, now we know exactly who she is."

"She is pregnant, yet barely out of childhood herself." Beverly uttered, sounding disgusted.

"It is not our place to judge another culture." Jean-Luc reprimanded her gently.

"So, we know she understands English, but she refuses to speak it. There has to be a reason. I have an idea, and it fits into my other plans quite nicely. Captain, I want to slowly introduce her into the Enterprise's school as a teaching assistant. As she was a mother, I think she will relate well to the younger children, and children have a way of bringing most adults out of their shell. Even you, sir. With the Universal translator working, they will understand her, and she will understand them, and perhaps become comfortable with English again. It will also show her that we trust her, putting her with our children." Deanna explained slowly. "It will also give her something to do besides dwell on her problems. In many cases, especially with rape victims, it helps to give them something to do to take their minds off what has happened to them, and children are very non threatening."

"I do agree with that, Captain, but I think that the adjustment should be gradual, and I think that we should ask her if she wants that.." Beverly stipulated.

"I understand. I think that it is an excellent idea, as well. Lieutenant?" The Captain asked.

Worf shrugged. "It seems all right to me."

"One thing I would like to mention is that I want to put her in the guest quarters on deck six, the ones that we occasionally use for overflow patients? I can't keep her in sick bay forever and those rooms are have monitors in them so we can keep tabs on our guest." Beverly requested.

"Fine. Mr. Worf, will you arrange that?" The captain ordered and sipped his tea. "Counselor, with the doctors permission, I would like you and Mr. Worf to take Qing MaH'delyna down to the planet, to see if there is anything she wants from the villa. Things from home."

"I am not so sure that that is such a good idea, but I will arrange it if she wishes." Deanna said. "I will go talk to her now."

"Good. I will let you make all necessary arrangements. "Said the Captain.


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Worf went back to sickbay, after having dinner with Alexander. His son was off to spend the night with Ensign Gallagher's son, Valerial. Worf felt sorry for Gallagher. Last time the two boys had a sleep over in his quarters, Worf had been cleaning ice cream and chocolate marshmallow syrup off of the sofa for hours. "Better their place, and not mine!" Worf muttered to himself.

He entered the sickbay. As per the evening usual, the lights were dim. He meandered into Beverly's office, but she wasn't around. Probably in her quarters. He exited quickly, not wanting to interfere with her privacy. He didn't like people in his little office on deck five. Not like he had been near his office in the last few weeks. He probably had PADD work to do by the ton.

"QI'yaH!" He swore. he had to get the security duty roster out by oh-eight hundred hours. It would be a long night. Worf shrugged and walked into the normal biobed area. He knew that MaH'delyna had been here moved this afternoon, and after their trip to the planet tomorrow would be taken into her new quarters.

She had changed since he had last seen her. She now wore a floor length sea green gown with long flowing sleeves. It was very plain in comparison with the one she had worn in the data record he had seen earlier. MaH'delyna lay on the biobed, her eyes closed. He thought she was asleep and turned to leave.

"I am sorry, Worf." She said softly.

He pivoted on his heel and walked over to her bedside. "You have nothing to apologize for." He answered awkwardly.

"I did not treat you as I would have liked. I was rude." She continued, MaH'delyna sat up slowly, crossing her arms over her stomach in a protective or defensive position. Her brown eyes opened slightly into narrow brown slits.

"I did not mean to upset you. I am known to be blunt." He slapped himself inwardly. That sounded dumb. He rolled back on his heels and crossed his arms over his chest. It was a defensive position. Wait a moment, he didn't want to be defensive. How did Beverly put it? Non-threatening? He uncrossed his arms and put them behind his back.

"You, yourself, you didn't upset me. It was just that, for a while anyway, you became them. I couldn't-" She shuddered and shook her head.

"Don't think about it. I am not here in any official capacity." Now he sounded unfeeling. Being an impromptu counselor was very difficult.

She made a small sound that sounded like half a laugh. "I make you uncomfortable, don't I."

"I did not say that." He was being defensive again. He inhaled and rubbed his palms together. They seemed unnaturally dry. He swallowed. His adams apple was like a watermelon in his throat.

"You didn't have to." She turned and looked at him, her brown eyes shrewd. It was the first time that he had seen her look directly into his eyes. "I can tell."

Oh great, he thought. Now she's empathic. No, that couldn't be, telepathy and empathy genes were not present in the klingon genetic code. Or at least not to his knowledge. Perhaps he was being outwardly noticeable. He stopped rolling on the balls of his feet. He swallowed. His collar felt suddenly tight. "Warnog!" He choked.

Her eyes widened, and she looked confused. "What?"

He strode over to the replicator and ordered the steaming Klingon drink. Too bad it was synthehol. Back in his quarters Worf had a flask of the real thing, and the proper type of heater for it. He held the glass out to her. "Warnog, would you like some?"

MaH'delyna took the glass, a strange little smile on her face. "I've never had this before. I wanted some when my father held a celebration upon his election to the high council, but my mother wouldn't let me. She said I was too young to pick up on my father's bad habits. She disapproved of his drinking." She dropped her gaze to the glass. "Father found her attitude terrible unklingon."

He took a sip. As usual, it tasted like a travesty of the real thing. "Who is your father?"

The smile left her face. "I - He is dead now. It isn't important." She looked at him, and slowly raised the glass to her lips. She held it there a moment and then proceeded to drink.

Worf exhaled. He had been holding his breath. The first bridge was laid. She had drank with him, and a klingon never drank with his enemies. "My parents, too, are dead. They died when I was quite young, During the Khitomer massacre."

"I am sorry." She said simply. She took another sip of the warnog.

"Did Doctor Crusher talk to you about the proposed trip to the planet tomorrow morning?" He asked, not knowing what to say. He knew the universal translator was working now, even though they were speaking in Klingon, because she was wearing a starfleet pin on her breast.

"Yes. I must admit I am terrified. A part of me wants to go, and another wants to stay." She confided softly.

Worf could barely keep himself from staring at her. A klingon never admitted a weakness! It just wasn't done! It was a cardinal rule. "I will be there. " He said trying to reassure her, feeling slightly flustered himself.

"I know." She began to undo the end of her braid and comb her fingers through her hair.

"MaH'delyna, I-" He stopped, not knowing what to say.

"Yes, son of Mohg?" She looked up at him, and stopped playing with her hair.

"I just wanted to say I am sorry. I know that words mean nothing, that they don't bring back those lost, but all the same, I wish we could have arrived sooner." He spit it out quickly.

MaH'delyna smiled faintly. "Thank you, Worf. You are wrong; your words do mean something to me."

He put down his cup." I should go. You need your rest." He watched her nod and turned to leave.

"Worf," she called. He turned. "Worf, you really are a very gentle person." She lay down and closed her eyes, her partially undone hair streaming over the edge of the biobed like a shimmering banner.

He walked out, in a daze. Through sickbay, into a turbolift, and over to Ten Forward, without his travel even registering in his brain. He sat down at a table in front of the huge windows, and ordered a large prune juice from the steward. He gulped it back and ordered another.

"Keep drinking that stuff like that and you will regret it. May I?" It was Deanna.

He looked up at her and blinked. What had she said? Something about the juice. He jerked his head affirmatively. It seemed like a safe answer. "Deanna." He said finally.

"You look like someone just told you the Enterprise was made of cheese." She told him.

"I am not gentle!" He blurted.

"What?"

"Never mind."

"She's right, you know." Troi replied mysteriously.

Worf stared at her. He know had proof that Deanna Troi didn't have a load to be bricks short of. "You're mad." He muttered.

"No. I am not. But it is true, no matter how unklingon it is."

He ground his teeth, and shot another glass of prune juice. "I don't appreciate the insult."

"Worf, you're a fraud." Deanna giggled.

His lips twitched. He didn't know if he wanted to strangle her or laugh with her. Instead, he groaned, "Attacked on all sides."

She smiled an infuriatingly sweet smile. "That's my job."

"Hmph. I am too busy for this." He said gruffly.

"No, not to busy. I think that the problem is that you have established a very safe and well ordered life for you here on the Enterprise and now someone has thrown a wrench into that life." She looked at him directly.

"I like order."

"I won't dispute that. You also like control, and I sense that you feel like you have lost control of your well ordered life. You're defiantly a military man in that aspect." She smiled at some private joke.

He nodded." So my occupation fits my personality. What are you saying?"

"MaH'delyna is not like other klingons, is she? She doesn't fit well into your well ordered life?"

"MaH'delyna has no bearing on my life. She is a passenger on the Enterprise, nothing more." He reacted defensively.

"No, but she is a very abused member of your race." Troi pressed.

He blew up disgusted, "She admitted fear to me!"

"Is that a crime?"

"Yes! It is! It just isn't done!" He continued.

"Oh, put a sock in it, Worf. Save the righteous indignation for someone else. She trusts you enough to tell you her feelings. You should be happy, not angry." Troi answered, exasperated.

"She isn't normal!"

"Normal is boring, and anyway, do you seriously expect her to be normal, anyway? Don't place expectations on her that she can't live up to!"

Worf lost his temper. He slammed a fist down on the table. "I am not." He watched Troi start to crack a smile and was silent for a moment. "I sound like Alexander. I believe 'I am not' is his favorite phrase." She started to laugh and he felt foolish. his anger draining out of him. "Great. I sound like my son." He rolled his eyes.

She smiled. "You are under a certain amount of stress. It's allowed."

"I overreacted?" She made a gesture of a little space between her fingers. "Hmph. That still doesn't mean that I am gentle." He mumbled.

"If you say so."

"You are a very trying woman." He grumbled.

She smiled evilly, "I try."

He nodded and rose. "I feel outclassed. I have work to do. I've been getting behind in my regular duties."

"Ah, yes, paperwork. The great boon of mankind. Be very careful Worf! One day you might start to enjoy it." Deanna smiled impishly.

"Never. A warrior would never like such a thing." He looked into her eyes challengingly. "Do you?"

She shook her head and sighed. "No, but I keep telling myself that I do, hoping for the day I can stomach the dirty business. It's something they tell us in counseling school, but I don't think it works all that well."

Worf downed the dregs of his prune juice. "There you go."

Troi grinned, and then her face became serious. "Worf, I've said it before and I will say it again, don't become to personally involved. It isn't good for you to tie yourself up in knots over things you can't change." She said as a word of caution.

"Good night, Counselor." He said, nodding. He left the bar and made his way down the yellowish halls to the turbolift. When it stopped he saw a young woman and her child inside. He entered and barked, "Deck five." Facing the turbolift door, with his hands behind his back, he could feel the child staring him. It was rather disquieting. Children, even his own, sometimes made him uncomfortable. They, too, had an uncanny way of reading his emotions.

The door slid open on deck five and he exited. Worf walked down another hall to his office. It was right across from the armory and he nodded at the midshipman who always stood on guard outside.

"Mr. Carvan, any problems?" He asked.

"No sir."

Worf nodded. Of course, there were never any problems, but he felt it his duty to ask. He shook his head. it wasn't even duty anymore. It was a habit. He entered his office. It was a nice little place. The walls were gray, his computer terminal was gray, and the carpet was gray. He snorted. So it was very gray. He liked gray. He had a few klingon spears on the walls, as well as a hanging showing a klingon hunt. It made his office seem more lived in.

Worf sat down behind his desk. It had a gray base, but the top was obsidian that had been polished to a high sheen. He laid his hands on the surface. It had been a birthday present form Kurn, his brother. He turned his computer terminal on and went to work on the new roster. It took about two hours of time juggling. He hated this part of his job. organization wasn't something that came naturally to him. It was another discipline.

When he was finished, he walked over to his little replicator and ordered some _qagh_. There was nothing like a bowl of serpent worms for dinner. If only they came fresh, like they did on the home world. He went back to his desk and took a look through his messages. There was one from his foster mother. He scanned it quickly, found that all was well back in Siberia, and wrote a return reply. He knew he should go and visit them, for his father's health was failing. Worf felt guilty about his neglect of his parents.

The next message was from a member of the klingon high council Drymar, begging Worf to intercede with Kurn on Drymar's behalf. Worf considered Drymar a dishonorable sniviler, so he sent back a reply stating that what Kurn did was Kurn's own business. The following message was from Kurn himself. It was a brief missive asking Worf to call Kurn on Kurn's Bird of Prey, as urgently as possible. Worf was intrigued. He issued the call.

About five minutes later his terminal beeped. It was Kurn. " _LoDnI' nuqneH_?" Brother, what do you want?, Worf said in klingon.

"Worf! It's about time. You look as pampered as ever." Kurn grinned. Worf took a fingerful of _qagh_ and ate it very deliberately in front of the monitor. Kurn began to laugh.

"Ingrate. You should treat your elder brother with more respect." Worf growled jokingly.

"Next time you are on the home world, I will treat you to fresh _qagh._ That replicated crap tastes like dirt." Kurn said.

Worf nodded in agreement. "So, to what honor do I owe a communicay? I am sure you didn't call me to discuss _qagh._ "

"Worf, Gowron is crawling all over me trying to find out what I know about SoS. The Humans are keeping their lips sealed shut while they do their investigation. Have you heard anything about it?" Kurn urged.

"You are the foreign minister, shouldn't you find out for yourself? I am merely a Lieutenant on a Starfleet vessel." Worf replied tartly.

"Bah!" Kurn spat. "You know something."

"I wouldn't call this going through proper diplomatic channels. SoS isn't part of the empire. It isn't any of your affair."

"Ha ha. The SoSians are klingons. It is our affair." Kurn said deliberately. "As I said, you know something. Tell me. I won't pass on to Gowron anything you don't want him to know. Just tell me."

"Just because the Enterprise is in orbit around said planet doesn't mean that I know anything." Worf returned, looking Kurn in the eye.

Kurn nodded. "Just between brothers then. I knew you knew something." He said smugly.

"The colony was obliterated, Kurn. Everyone was murdered, except for one female." He replied quietly.

"What?!" Kurn's eyes widened. "What kind of _Ha'DIbaH_ would destroy a defenseless colony? Was it the borg? or the Kzinti?"

"They were klingons, Kurn." Worf said slowly. "Was Gowron behind it?"

Kurn shook his head. "I was with him when he received news of the attack. He was genuinely surprised. And angry. Actually, I haven't seen him so angry since Kahless came to the homeworld. Gave the messenger a damn good thrashing. Nearly killed him."

"Gowron always was one to shoot the messenger." Worf muttered.

Kurn smirked. "So, brother, what are we going to do about this?"

"WE aren't going to do anything."

"Yes, WE are. I know you, Worf. You aren't going to let this go by. It isn't in your nature."

"What do you know of my nature?"

"Enough. I have men in places you don't. I could make a few discreet, subtle inquiries." Kurn replied.

Worf laughed, the first time in several days. "Kurn, you are about as subtle as a spread of photon torpedoes." Kurn had the gall to look hurt. He chuckled, then became serious. "No, the problem is that you are watched. People are going to assume that you might be looking into things for me, especially our guilty party."

"As you wish, but I want an update. Is your survivor able to tell you anything?" Kurn was perturbed.

Worf felt his face and his mood darken. "She isn't in good shape, Kurn. Her mind is, "He made a wavering motion with one hand. "Our counselor hopes that she will come around, I have my doubts."

"Damn." Kurn swore. "Ah, well. It is just one woman. As long as you get the answers out of her, that is all that matters."

"Don't let your mate hear that, Kurn. Bujal would scratch your eyes out for it." Worf warned jokingly.

Kurn rolled his eyes. "We took the oath six months ago and now she rules my life. I feel like I am no longer a warrior around her."

"Read her some more poetry." Worf advised.

"I am out. Will you write some more for me?" Kurn begged.

Worf laughed. "When I have the time." He finished his _qagh_ and steepled his fingers in front of him. He had Kurn right where he wanted him. Kurn was running scared when it came to his wife. "You will owe me a favor, a favor that I will choose at a later date."

"Hmph, you want me to smuggle you some Cardassian T'merki'al juice, don't you?" Kurn rolled his eyes and grimaced. "That stuff tastes like putrefying _Targ_ blood."

"Very funny Kurn. Now, do we have a deal or not?"

"Yes, yes, just send me some verses, as soon as possible. It is the only thing that quiets her down." He looked like a hunted man.

"Try the tea ceremony." He suggested.

"Ha ha ha. If I put the kettle on every time she gets angry, she would get to suspicious. Kurn out." The screen clicked off. Worf hit a button to end the transmission.

So Gowron was making strong inquiries. That didn't surprise worf. What surprised him was Gowron's supposed reaction, which was odd. Gowron had never been to SoS. Worf had already checked that out. It didn't make sense. The slaughter of the SoSian klingons shouldn't make Gowron so angry. The plot thickened.

Worf finished up his work, and left his office. He returned to his quarters and realized it was midnight. He tidied up his mess and went to bed. He thought about the mystery, as he lay on his bed, staring up the ceiling. There were too many questions. Just too many questions. If only a clue would jump out at him, something to show him which way to go. Tomorrow the Farringdon arrived. It would be a very long day.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Worf awoke later than usual. He was rather surprised because his own internal clock always woke him up at the same time. It was a discipline that he was rather proud of. He was always up at O-six hundred hours. It was seven forty-five. He had to be on the bridge in fifteen minutes.

Worf groaned and rolled out of bed, hating the feeling of being rushed. He grabbed a fresh uniform and threw it on. Shaking his head at the sense of Deja Vu he was experiencing, he went over to his replicator and ordered a bowl of porridge. Porridge was his secret vice. It was something his foster mother always made in Siberia, and had a soothing effect on him. He ate quickly, while brushing his hair, something he found very difficult to do.

He was ready for his shift in ten minutes. Not a record, but near to being one. He was growing soft. A klingon warrior should be able to roll out of his bunk and be prepared to fight all in the same second. He left his quarters and went up to the bridge, via the nearest turbolift. It was one minute to eight, when he took control of his command station, reprogrammed the control panels to his personal configuration, and ran a routine level five diagnostic. Everything was normal.

Commander William Riker entered the bridge from the turbolift behind Worf. He looked a little the worse for wear, and was also late, Worf thought, secretly smug. Riker ran his fingers through his rich brown hair and walked toward Worf.

"Mr. Worf, everything A-Ok?" He asked.

Worf nodded, "Yes sir."

"You look like you need some sleep." Riker mumbled.

"You should take your own advice, Commander." Worf rumbled, amused.

Riker nodded, beleageredly. "I know. I haven't been sleeping well since the other day. I thought I'd seen it all. I thought wrong."

"I understand."

"Thought you would. By the way, if you need someone to talk to-" He trailed off.

"Thank- you, commander." Worf sighed inwardly. His friends cared, but they just didn't understand that a klingon does not share such feelings.

"The captain informed me that the Farringdon's estimated time of arrival will be about eleven hundred hours. You and Counselor Troi's trip to the planet is tentatively scheduled for nine thirty, based on the state of Qing MaH'delyna." Riker changed the topic after a moment of silence.

"Understood." he said. Riker nodded again and turned and walked down the ramp to the command chair. The bridge crew performed their normal watch duties, and the time passed as it usually did.

Worf stared resolutely at the planet on the view screen, his hands loosely clasped behind his back. He was ready for anything, as usual, and, as usual, nothing happened. The enterprise traveled in its orbit around the planet unmolested. Worf looked at the planet, as he had when they had first arrived. It was a planet, like any of the large number he had seen before. It was class M, about twice the size of Earth, with ninety three percent of the surface covered with water. There was an unusually low percentage of humidity, considering the amount of water on the planet, the landscape suited to an arid planet. It was just a planet. Like any other.

The decks underneath Worf's feet thrummed with the activity of the engines. The processed air thick with the noise of several computers running. It was all normal. Worf couldn't understand why it didn't feel right. He was going to be very happy to see the last of this place. Let the crew of the Farringdon scour the surface for clues. Worf had a feeling they wouldn't find anything here. The answers were to be found on the homeworld. It looked good to the empire, though, having a federation starship hover over the planet for a week to look for clues.

What Worf couldn't understand was why they weren't going to transfer MaH'delyna onto the Farringdon. His private conceit was that he was the reason, but reality told him it was that they were the soonest scheduled ship going to the Home World.. The fools who pushed PADD's in their little offices wouldn't take the time to consider the woman's feelings. If there was one thing that Worf hated more than tribbles, it was bureaucrats. Little people with little jobs who make decisions for the population.

Before he realized it, Worf was being relieved by a crewman, and heading down to transporter room One. He tapped his communicator pin and informed Troi where to meet him, before entering the room. After nodded to the young vulcan midshipmen who was on duty, Worf went over to the wall and reached down a phasor and a tricorder. He was strapping on the weapon when Deanna and MaH'delyna entered the room.

Deanna wore the blue uniform that she started wearing while he had been on special assignment, and her hair was tied back into one of her many ornate styles. MaH'delyna was in a long hunter green gown like the one she had been wearing last night, the only difference being the color. Her long hair was caught up in a simple net. Worf had never seen a klingon woman in such attire. It was so... modest. He found it rather pleasing.

MaH'delyna seemed visibly agitated, and Worf contemplated postponing the trip when she said, "I am glad we are doing this. I need to say good-bye."

Deanna cocked her head and looked at the klingon woman. "Why do you say that?"

"This place was my home, and I severely doubt I will ever come back here. SoS deserves a fare well. In a few years it will be as if my people had never existed." She replied sadly.

Worf nodded. "That is the nature of things."

"Three hundred years of culture, gone, except in my memory. A language that when I die, dies with me." She looked at him, her face calm, but her eyes were searching him for an answer he was not prepared to give. "Is that the nature of things, Son of Mohg? I would call it the nature of klingon culture. A race bent on destruction, thriving on war. We destroy everything we touch, even our children fall prey to our bloodlust.""

Her words made sense in a way he desperately wanted to deny. She uttered the words that had been secretly been running through his brain since he had found out that the perpetrators of the massacre had been his own people. His anger ignited. "I disagree!" He hissed forcefully.

She flinched, dropped her eyes to the floor, and began to tremble. Troi looked daggers at him, but he shrugged. MaH'delyna drew her arms around herself, as if to quell her shaking, then slowly rose her eyes to his. "You might feel differently, might think differently, when it is your child who dies in your arms."

Her eyes bore into his, so full of anger and despair that he was unable to turn away. It was as if she was trying to convey some idea to him that he was unable to understand. Those eyes haunted him ceaselessly, those dead brown eyes that could see into his very soul. Eyes that made him look within himself and dislike what he saw. He pivoted abruptly and stalked onto the transporter pad. He placed his hands behind his back and stood looking straight ahead.

Troi leaned over to MaH'delyna, who was staring at Worf's former position. "Are you sure that you want to do this?" She asked, concern threaded through her voice.

"Yes, Deanna. There will be no other opportunity." She followed Worf onto the platform, her arms still locked around her body. Troi followed her and stood between MaH'delyna and Worf.

"Energize." Worf stated clearly. At once the tingly sensation of the transporter assailed him. He reappeared in the now familiar courtyard. It looked much better, he thought, without the bodies. MaH'delyna obviously didn't agree.

"What happened here?" She breathed.

Troi looked sharply at her. "You don't know?"

The klingon woman looked stricken. "I know something happened here. Something evil, but I don't know what it was. It is like" She shivered, and hugged herself tighter, if that was possible. "It's like a dream I can't remember, hovering on the edge of my brain, yet fading away into nothingness. I remember pain." She held up her right hand and stared at her healing fingers. "I remember desperate misery. "

Deanna laid a comforting arm on her shoulder. "It's all right. You don't have to remember until you are ready."

MaH'delyna turned around until she was facing the villa. "My home. Our home. His home." She said wistfully, and took a few tentative steps toward the door. "He brought me here after they found me." She said to herself.

Worf watched her. "Your attacker?" He prompted brusquely.

She turned, and looked at him. "No, Toloth. He was First chancellor of SoS, and my mate." She continued towards the door. "I remember the day as if it were yesterday." Worf heard the tremulous catch in her voice as she disappeared into the building. "Well, not yesterday."

Worf followed her and walked beside Deanna. "She seems to be all right." He said quietly.

"No thanks to you." Troi shot back evenly. "I was positive she was going to go to have a break down after you attacked her in the transporter room."

He rolled his eyes. "She is not like other females." That was an understatement. He was perplexed by her reactions. They weren't normal. Worf chided himself. He had already been through this with Troi." I am sorry."

She looked at him and blinked. "That was quick."

He shrugged and followed MaH'delyna who had entered a room that appeared to be a study. "Toloth's office." She opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out a smooth pebble. "His stone. He always squeezed on it during meetings. He said it kept him from attacking his fellow debaters." She half smiled, and put it into her pocket. Worf could see her fidgeting with it in her pocket. She bowed her head and her shoulders heaved silently.

There was an almost inaudible splat as a single teardrop fell from her eyes. Worf felt his eyes widen, and his cheeks flush. What did he do now? He had three choices and none were all that appealing. He could go and comfort her. That was out. Definitely out. He could walk out the door, that being the standard klingon response. He couldn't decide if that would be giving her some privacy or being insensitive. His last option was to stand there like a statue, and stare at her like a fool. He chose option three. Stay quiet, do nothing. It seemed safe.

But there was only one tear. She straightened and dabbed at the corners of her eyes. "I just can't believe he is gone. Did you ever feel that you had been with someone so long that their presence in your life was a given?"

Worf thought about it a moment. "When my parents died, I had similar feelings."

"Toloth was very kind to me. After his first wife died, he never replaced her." She smiled whimsically, and looked at him. "It caused a terrible scandal."

He cocked his head. "You had not taken the oath, then?"

She shook her head. "Oh we had. When I was thirteen we were bonded. I was his second wife. Anyway, Karela died in childbirth when I was sixteen, and I was his only wife. Most men in his position have at least four."

Worf found himself dumfounded. "You were a child!"

"Toloth wanted to keep me and the only way he could was to marry me. Besides, thirteen is not an uncommon age to be bonded."

"A different custom." Worf said in a strangled tone.

She made an affirmative gesture with her hand, and turned from the room. "This was a beautiful place to live, a gentle world, and the SoSians were gentle people. I will miss them. I will miss them all."

"Sounds very pastoral." He grunted, his lip unconsciously curling with disdain. His foster home had been on the farming planet of Galt, and he hated anything to do with agriculture.

"In a way, it was, but in the end, winter came." She silently transversed the halls, stopping in several rooms. In some she picked up objects and placed them in her pockets. Little mementos, nothing large. She said not a word, and no more tears fell from her eyes.

They came to the last room. Worf had been through it several times but had never really looked at it before. It was the bedchamber which lead out to the little garden where he had originally found MaH'delyna. It was an amazingly large room, dominated by a large fur covered pallet on a raised dais. There was also a large sunken pool in a back corner of the room. The walls were plaster, and were covered with murals depicting klingons having some sort of outdoor party in a meadow, with a massive waterfall in the background. They were recently painted, for Worf could see a rendering of MaH'delyna on each wall.

Worf noticed that as she walked into the room, MaH'delyna kept her eyes glued to the floor. She glided over to one of the walls, grabbed hold of a hidden latch and pulled a section open to reveal a small dressing room, full of of green fabric. She turned and looked at Worf, "Is it all right if I take a few larger things with me?" She asked softly. He nodded. She disappeared into the wardrobe and he could hear her rustling around. She reappeared about five minutes later with a large hide drawstring bag. She put it to one side and returned to the hidden room. Worf stood and waited. He wondered where Deanna had wandered off to. He thought she would have stayed near to MaH'delyna, after all, Troi was the counselor, Worf was merely the escort, not like the ladies needed protection on this dead world. The only thing here to hurt them were the ghosts.

He looked up as he heard Mah'delyna shut the wall with a dull thud. She was struggling to carry an ornately carved wooden box which was about a meter by a meter and a half in size. He strode forward and took it out of her hands, only to be surprised by the weight. The box must have weighed at least forty kilograms. Worf braced his feet apart, set his shoulders, and lifted the box to a comfortable height.

"I think that is everything. I don't believe there is anything else I need." MaH'delyna said softly.

"Very well." Worf replied and looked around for Troi. As he turned he watched MaH'delyna move toward the garden. She moved as if in a trance, slowly and evenly. He put the box down on a small table and followed her.

MaH'delyna was kneeling in the churned dirt exactly where Worf had found her just two days earlier. Her back was to him, but her head was straight. He took a few steps forward, but she didn't move. After a moment she raised her arms to face the morning sky and screamed "ZE'HESTRAL!"

It was a form of the death howl, but it was more poignant because it was the sound of a mother calling for her son. She screamed it again, but towards the end it became a desperate, lonely wail. An empty, pointless noise.

Worf walked up behind her and put a tentative hand on her shoulder. MaH'delyna whirled around, her face wet with tears and her eyes glimmering. Worf looked into those eyes, and realized that she had slipped back into her memories.

"You killed him!" She cried, and started, and started to pummel his chest with a certain amount of pressure. "You monster! You bastard! Why can't you just leave me! Why can't you kill me! Is this not enough?"

Worf leaned over to grab her flailing fists. "Little Mother, I am not going to hurt you!"

"It's a lie! Isn't your revenge complete?" She shrieked.

He finally was able to clutch her wrists. He bent his face close to hers and growled very evenly, "I DID NOT KILL YOUR SON!"

Her eyes locked with his, and slowly the fog of memory drained away. She silently whispered, "No." And began to sob. Her body sagged against his. He released her arms, and her fingers clutched into his uniform top. and she cried on his shoulder. "Why, Worf? Why?"

If Worf thought he had been uncomfortable in the study, he knew he was uncomfortable now. He felt, well, useless. He didn't know what to do. He put a light hand on her shoulder, patted it softly and croaked lamely in english "There, there." He felt like a complete fool.

"Why did they have to kill my boy, Worf?"

He didn't have an answer for her. He wished that he did. "I don't know, MaH'delyna, if only you could tell me who did it."

She sighed brokenly. "If only I knew who did it. There was one... I believe I might have even known him before, but I just don't know who he was. It's like trying to grasp the wind."

"Do you know what they wanted?"

She pressed her face into his shoulder. " No. I told them everything I knew about SoS. Everything! They kept screaming, 'Where is the sword? Where are the logs?"

"What logs? What sword?" Her words brought her closer to an answer. If only she dribbled out these tidbits at a faster pace.

"I haven't a clue. I don't know about any swords." She held him tighter, and her breathing became more rapid. "I kept telling them that, and they just kept hurting me."

Awkwardly, he tried to rub the back of her neck. "You don't have to think about it now, there will be time later." He bit his tongue the moment the words were out. He wanted answers, why was he telling her not to think about it?

MaH'delyna's sobbing grew more intense. "They kept using me, over and over and over again. I begged them to stop, and they just laughed." She looked up at him, her eyes haunted. "They stopped, and they said, 'tell us, bitch, or we kill the boy. I pleaded to them. I implored them, 'don't hurt my son.' They hung him." Her voice reached a high pitch, yet it became more raspy and quiet as she continued her story. "I attacked the men who were holding me, I think that I even killed one, but they threw me to the ground and it started again. Over and over and over again, for hours. I couldn't get away. I just kept screaming, and they kept laughing. Oh Gods, he just kept laughing. " Her hysteria dissolved into tears.

Deanna picked this auspicious moment to arrive. "Worf, what happened?" She asked.

Worf turned his head to look at her. Actually, glare at her would have been more accurate. "Where were you?" He enunciated carefully, but softly.

"The captain called to check on our progress, And then I got lost." She walked over, knelt beside MaH'delyna, and put her arms around the klingon woman. "Worf, why don't you go back to the ship with anything MaH'delyna needs in her quarters, and we will follow in a while. We are leaving orbit in an hour and a half."

"But the Farringdon is not expected for two more hours?"

"Not coming. They have been struck by the same Telferian virus that the Enterprise had; however, where we had you and Data and several others to look after things, the Farringdon's complement has only two non-humans, both Vulcan ensigns. They are heading to starbase Eight-four-six to be quarantined. Apparently everyone on board has it."

"So what does the Enterprise do now."

"We are going to leave a telemetry beacon stating this planet off limits to all vessels, Starfleet and otherwise until ownership is established. SoS was not under treaty with anyone, so what happens to it is up in the air. I am sure that the diplomats will be chewing over this for a while." Troi explained quietly, as she worked to get MaH'delyna's hands out of Worf's shirt.

When she had, Worf rose. "I will see to it."

MaH'delyna finally raised her head and looked at Worf. "I am sorry."

Worf looked at her and for some inexplicable reason smiled faintly. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Little Mother. So stop apologizing to me."

He turned and walked away, but out of the corner of his eye he caught Troi's shocked expression. He shrugged, entered the room, picked up the box, and the bag, which was also very heavy, and transported back to the planet.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

After arranging for MaH'delyna's things to go to her new quarters, Worf changed his uniform and then made his way back to the bridge. He took control of tactical, and did everything possible to keep his mind off the days earlier events. In other words, he was composing poetry for Kurn. He had a few good ideas, but nothing substantial.

Captain Picard came up behind him. "I trust that you have been advised of the change in plans."

"Yes, sir."

Jean-Luc rubbed his hands together. "Excellent." He turned and walked down the ramp and sat down in his chair.

"Is the telemetry beacon programmed?" Picard inquired.

"Yes, Captain." Data said.

"Mr. Worf, if you please."

Worf ordered the beacon to be launched. After a second it appeared on the view screen. "Telemetry beacon away, Captain." He paused, "Transmitting now."

"Excellent. Helm, lay in a course for Ximena II. Warp factor six." Picard ordered crisply.

"Aye Sir." Replied the Helm officer

"ETA, Mr. Data?" Riker asked.

"ETA nine hours, twenty six minutes." Data replied.

"Engage." Ordered the Captain.

Worf felt the ship pivot and leave the star system. There was a jump as the powerful warp engines kicked in, and the starfield on the view screen changed as the ship increased in speed.

Worf was happy to be gone from SoS. It was not his idea of a comfortable place. He wondered what would happen to the planet now. As an independent planet, there could be some arguments as to ownership. It just wouldn't revert back to the Federation or the Empire, and both governments would probably want it.

And there was the question of the survivor. It could be possible as the last remaining member of the SoS people, she could have a claim on the planet. But she was not an indigenous person. The other problem was that people just didn't own planets, they owned land on planets. Would that mean that she would have a claim on the island that the klingons lived on? Would her imperial house claim the land?

"Well, Number one, it should be interesting to talk to Ambassador Li. He has spent much time on Ximena II helping them with their membership in the Federation." Picard said to Riker suddenly, snapping Worf out of his musings.

"I am surprised the Ximi were accepted into the federation. They aren't exactly standard Federation material." Riker replied.

"I would tend to agree." Picard nodded.

"I mean It must difficult for a race of sentient worms to adjust to our culture." Riker said.

Data turned around, "The Ximi are actually a type of flatworm. They display bilateral symmetry, cephalization and organ systems that are very primitive, as well as lacking a proper coelem cavity in their bodies."

Riker laughed. "What do you think Worf?"

He hadn't really been paying attention to the conversation. "Slimy?" He volunteered.

"Actually, The Ximi aren't-" Data was unable to continue as Worf's communicator beeped.

"Crusher to Worf, Would you please report to sick bay?"

"On my way." He answered crisply.

Riker grinned. "Saved by the bell, eh Worf."

He nodded and rolled his eyes. "Yes sir."

As he left he could hear Data's perplexed "I do not understand." and Riker's amused chuckle.

The turbolift was empty. "Sickbay." He figured this call was because they were moving MaH'delyna to her new quarters. He originally wasn't supposed to help, Troi must have changed her mind.

Troi. She was acting very strange. Worf wondered if she was in the midst of some strange Betazoid phase. She was always smiling to herself in a rather congratulatory way. And when she looked at him she always seemed very speculative. That made him feel edgy. Cornered. He didn't like that feeling. It was rather like the way she looked at him when she found MaH'delyna and him in the garden. He sensed that she was up to something but he couldn't put his finger on it. Women. They were always scheming about something or other.

He nodded to Doctor Silar as he entered Sickbay, and continued to Beverly's office. He fixed her with his standard glare when he saw her sitting behind her desk. "Yes Doctor?"

"Ah Worf. Yes. We need your help. We are going to move MaH'delyna and we want you to take her up there. Troi is already on Deck six." She said crisply.

"I can do that." He said.

"Afterwards, I want you to take her around the ship."

He let his breath out through his teeth. "I do not think I am the best person for that job."

"I think you are, besides, you are the one who wanted to be the impromptu counselor."

He felt his eyes harden. "You are up to something, too, aren't you!"

"Yes, I am. I am trying to helping a young woman feel like living again. Be nice Worf, I am only doing my job." She chided.

"I am head of security. I don't have to be nice." He replied acidly.

She made an indelicate noise. "Ha Ha. Very funny. Now why don't you take MaH'delyna to her quarters. I will follow you up shortly."

He gritted his teeth. "Yes, sir." He turned around and stalked off.

MaH'delyna was sitting on a biobed with a nurse waving a tricorder around her. She had changed her gown since he had seen her last. As usual, she was in green. Her hair was braided like an ebony cord down her shoulder.

"Everything is normal." The nurse shut the tricorder with a snap. "You are doing very well." She said with a smile.

"Thank you," The klingon woman replied quietly.

Worf cleared his throat. The nurse nodded to him as she passed by. He walked a few steps forward. "Hello." He said in english. He looked at her face. She really was nice to look at. Her slowly growing confidence made her more interesting, and her differences were serving to make her rather exotic.

Worf mentally punched himself. What was he thinking? What was wrong with him? "I definitely need more sleep." He mumbled quietly to himself.

She looked up and he could almost see some of the strain leave her face. "Son of Mohg, I did not think you would see me. I disgraced myself." SHe said haltingly.

"It was no disgrace, little mother. There is no disgrace in grief." He thought his words very eloquent.

"You are kind, however I remember enough of imperial etiquette to know that a proper klingon does not show emotions." She replied sadly. "You must find me trying."

"I don't." He answered quickly. To quickly. What was he saying? He resisted the urge to slam his palm against his head. "Now, stop always apologizing to me. It is very unklingon and definitely unnecessary."

Her eyes searched his face. "You are different. You are very unlike any other klingon I have ever met."

"I was raised by humans." He replied simply. There was a small silence. Worf didn't want to elaborate further. His childhood and adolescence were difficult topics. "Shall we go?" He asked quickly.

MaH'delyna hopped off the bed. "I am nervous. This ship holds more people than four of our cities."

He chuckled, a rare thing for him. "It is big." He agreed.

She walked over to him and together they walked out of sickbay. "One of your nurses called it the flag of Starfleet. I do not understand what that means."

"The Enterprise is the second and the grandest of the Galaxy class Starships. It is the best ship of the whole fleet, and as such is the flagship." He explained.

"It must be a great honor to serve on such a vessel." The klingon woman said.

"I am honored to be here." He admitted. "There is a certain pride to being a member of the crew. This ship, and it's predecessors all have a very special history. They have all accomplished important things in the name of the Federation."

"This Human Federation is very important to you?"

He thought about it a moment. "I owe much to the federation. It was a starfleet ship that came to the rescue of Khitomer, and a human family who raised me after my klingon family died."

"Then you, too, are an orphan?" MaH'delyna asked quietly.

"After a fashion. My human family are very close." He answered gruffly. He did not like talking of his past.

She looked resolutely ahead. "I know what it feels like. I am alone in this world. Toloth was like my adoptive family, and Ze'hestral, well," She paused " It is difficult to be alone."

They walked silently. Worf was surprised to see that though MaH'delyna seemed to be comfortable around him, but she flinched whenever a male human walked by, and when a large Anterian midshipman, who was a member of Worf's security department, entered the turbolift, she stepped back into the wall. He wondered why. Why was she so afraid of other men, but not of him. Did she trust him so much? It was almost disquieting.

They reached her new quarters on deck six. As Worf approached, the door opened smoothly. The room configuration was fairly standard, a bedroom, a living area, and a washroom. The guest quarters were very simply furnished, almost spartan. As Worf looked around he saw someone had left a huge bouquet of earth spring flowers on the main table. On the small desk in the corner sat MaH'delyna's box and bag where Worf had left them. Outside of long tall windows the stars flashed by.

"Here you are." Worf said as he stepped into the room.

MaH'delyna followed him. She looked around. "It is so different from home."

"We do not have the same space on board the Enterprise as one would have on a planet." Worf replied.

"I understand." She walked over to a picture of a constitution class starship on the wall. "Is this what the Enterprise looks like?"

"No. That was the original Enterprise, Commanded by Captain Kirk." Worf explained.

"Ah," She turned around, and looked over at the stars. "They have a majesty of their own." She said to the window. "Nothing hurts the stars, they sit alone in the night. How I wish I was of their number.

"There are old human legends that say that the dead become stars. Souls winking out over the galaxy for all eternity." Worf supplied.

"The people of SoS believed that the stars were a map. If you followed the stars, they would lead you to a life of plenty. FreH'ner, our spiritual leader, once told me that the stars were the key to life, or better, that the stars were life.. Every year we had special days to celebrate various astrological events. The stars played a very important roll in our daily life." She hugged her arms around her body. " Three hundred years of culture destroyed in one evening. FreH'ner's stars didn't save him from the death that came at night; but I am getting maudlin. Tell me more of this ship."

He walked over to the replicator. "This is your replicator." She turned around and walked over to him. Worf continued, "Just tell it what you want to eat or drink and it will provide." He turned to the machine. "Warnog."

Inside the glowing white core of the replicator appeared two ribbed metal glasses. "That amazes me. How does it create food out of nothing?" MaH'delyna asked.

"They work like our transporter system, essentially they create food by reshaping molecules." Worf replied rather unsure of himself. He passed her the drink. When she took a sip so did he. It was as unpalatable as always. He definitely preferred prune juice to replicated Warnog.

"This is a place of wonders, a magical wonderland floating through timeless space." MaH'delyna walked over to the flowers. "They are from Counselor Troi and Doctor Crusher. My, they are beautiful."

He finished his warnog in a gulp and put it back in the Replicator to be broken down. "I will let you get settled. Would you like me to take you for a tour of the ship in about a half hour?"

"That would be nice. Thank-you Worf." She said with a smile.

He pivoted and left the room. This worked fine. He could go and putter in his office for a few moments and then take her around the ship. He walked into the turbolift. "Deck five." He barked.

He walked into his office and sat behind his desk. After flipping on his terminal, Worf scanned his messages, there was only one and it was from Gowron. "Inconvenient timing." He grumbled.

He sent out the call and it was picked up by the Klingon Command Center and transferred directly to Gowron almost immediately. Gowron's rugged face flickered into view.

"Worf. Glad you could call." Gowron said snidely in English.

"What do you want, Gowron?" Worf responded.

"What is the story on SoS?" Gowron asked almost too pleasantly, his blue eyes too innocent.

"How would I know?" Worf shrugged.

Gowron slammed a sizable fist down on the table. "Don't you give me any of that!" He snarled, his eyes almost bulging out of the sockets. "I know that the Enterprise has been in orbit around SoS!"

Worf steepled his fingers in front of his chest. "You are well informed."

"It pays to be in my position. Now, out with it." Gowron ground out.

"Why are you so concerned?"

"They are klingons."

"But not under your jurisdiction" Worf pointed out.

"I am not stupid, Worf. Don't treat me as if I am. You know as well as I do that the empire has been trying to get SoS to join it." Gowron commented idly.

"I know nothing." Worf shrugged again.

Gowron tried another line of questioning. "What did you tell Kurn, yesterday?" He hissed quietly.

"I gave him advice on how to handle females." Worf looked Gowron straight into the eye.

"You are beyond belief!"

"Why are you so interested in this, Gowron? The empire need SoS the same way a fly needs an extra leg." Worf liked his simile.

"Personal reasons."

"What starfleet wants you to know, they will tell you. I am not what one would call a diplomatic channel."Hadn't he just had this conversation with Kurn yesturday?

"I ask you as a comrade, Worf. As a fellow Warrior. One time brother in arms."

"Why haven't you asked Kurn. He IS your foreign minister." Worf pointed out.

"He will not tell me anything." Gowron barked.

Worf smiled evilly. "I know. Gowron, there isn't all that much I can tell you. What has the Federation told you?"

"Merely that the Planet SoS has been attacked by an unknown force, and that an investigation is under way." He bit out each word. "This is a klingon matter. It should be looked into by Klingons!"

"The colony was decimated."

Gowron's eyes went wide, and then narrowed into tiny little slits. "I don't believe it."

"Believe it. All the cities were destroyed."

Gowron looked worried, almost alarmed. "Survivors?" He whispered.

"I am not at liberty to discuss that." Worf said forcefully. "I really can't say anymore. Let your spies find out the rest."

"Thank you Worf." Gowron replied. "I do understand your position, and I hope that you understand mine. Gowron out." The view screen flickered into the triangular looking insignia of the empire.

"Gowron, I would understand your position if I knew what you were about. You are up to something, but I don't know what. YET." Worf said to the empty air of his office. Gowron was involving himself far to much in all of this. Was he guilty? Worf was unsure. If he was guilty, he was being far too obvious about it. No, Gowron was many things that Worf didn't like, but he wasn't stupid. If he wanted to destroy SoS, he was methodical enough to make sure that no one would have survived. And he would have made sure that no distress message was sent out.

So if it wasn't Gowron, who was it? MaH'delyna, in her moments of flashbacks kept mentioning revenge. Who in the empire would want revenge against a young Klingon woman? If only he knew who her parents were? What house she was from? He would ask her tonight. He needed to know. This whole SoS thing was gnawing at him. He needed to know.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"And this is Ten-Forward." Worf finished his tour with flourish. He and MaH'delyna walked into the lounge and sat down in one of the tables that stood before the huge floor to ceiling windows.

She sat with her hands in her lap, her eyes down. A personification of demure. " I have never seen anything like this place." MaH'delyna said quietly.

Worf felt his chest jut out proudly. "The Federation does have some special technologies."

She looked out at the stars. "Oh, to be able to travel the lengths of the universe! What amazing things you must have seen in your time!" She exclaimed. He stayed silent, watching her. She turned her face toward his and confided quietly, "My father used to say there was nothing more exhilarating than having the decks of his ship tremble with speed. I remember when I was very small, he took me on his battle cruiser to Earth. It was a long trip from Qronos to Terra. My mother was not pleased." She said, her eyes alight with the memory.

Worf studied her, trying to extrapolate her background from her musings. "He did not ask her?"

"I seem to remember him saying to her on our return that a Warrior does not ask anything of a mere female." She coughed nervously. "I think she threw something at him after that. Funny enough, my brother came soon later." Her eyes gleamed at him wickedly, yet her face kept it's demure look.

"Your father was an officer on a battle cruiser?" He questioned cautiously.

"He was the captain, but if I remember correctly, he had several ships under his control."

Worf held up his hand as Guinan drew near. "MaH'delyna, this is Guinan. Guinan is the hostess of Ten-Forward."

Worf had seen Guinan in many, well, interesting outfits, but this one took the cake. It was neon green with tiny little betazoid bells all over it. Her hat was in the shape of a star. She smiled benignly and looked at MaH'delyna. "Welcome to Ten-Forward and to the Enterprise. You are the lady of SoS." She said knowingly.

"I am Qing MaH'delyna. How do you do?" MaH'delyna inquired somewhat warily.

"I do just fine." Guinan flashed a pearly smile. She turned to Worf. "What can I get for you"

"Romulan ale and some nice fresh _qagh_." Worf ordered.

"Wait, Worf, what is _qagh_?" MaH'delyna asked.

"Regelean blood worms. Why?" He was perplexed.

"I can't eat meat." She looked at Guinan. "Do you have any vegetable dishes here?"

Guinan nodded. "I will get you a human classic, Caesar salad." She smiled mischievously, "and I'll hold the anchovies."

Worf was finally able to get his breath. "You don't eat meat?" He asked aghast. MaH'delyna shook her head. Worf stared at her as if she was insane.

"I like it. A vegetarian klingon. MaH'delyna, come down and visit me in Ten-Forward anytime. I think we will get along just fine." The hostess glided off, stopping and greeting people at other tables as she meandered her way back to the bar.

"You don't eat meat? Why?" Worf felt pained. A klingon that didn't eat meat was like a klingon that didn't fight, an oxymoron. Vegetarian and klingon were not two words one spoke in the same sentence. Most klingons really didn't even eat vegetables. Green stuff wasn't food, it was bait.

"No SoSian klingon would eat meat. It is one of our most sacred traditions." She said.

"But why?" Worf just couldn't understand, and perhaps, a small part of his brain pointed out, he didn't want to.

"Because, according to our history, when the original settlers were traveling in their starships they ran out of food, and many starved to death. To survive, the living at the flesh of the dead. In honor of those terrible times, the SoSians never ate meat again. You can always grow more plants, but death is forever, even the death of an animal." MaH'delyna explained gently.

"Aren't you killing the plants then?" Worf asked snidely.

She looked at him, exasperated, "You are intelligent enough to know the difference. Plants aren't sentient, at least not in the same way we and animals are."

He fought the urge to yell at her for being so silly, but no, he was going to be understanding. He was going to try. It was just so... so unnatural. "But this is replicated meat. It isn't the same thing."

"It is. I used to eat meat once. I could again, but if I don't keep some of the SoS traditions alive, they will die . I must keep them if only because I am the only left to do so." She looked at him imploringly.

He considered her words a moment. "I think I understand."

She smiled, a small half smile of feminine triumph. "It is not such a big thing, really. What else is there for me?"

"You can go back to your family on Qronos."

"My family is dead." MaH'delyna stated simply.

"Are you so sure?"

She hesitated a moment. "Toloth made some inquiries a few years ago. My family is no more. My father is dead, his retainers scattered to the winds. There is nothing for me on the home world." Her tone indicated that to her the subject was most definatly closed.

"Perhaps he did not tell you the truth." Worf said suddenly. He was feeling frustrated. He wasn't getting anywhere, and he had a sneaky suspicion he was being lead around by the nose. He knew as well as she did that there was more."

"Toloth? No, I can't see why he would lie to me. It was always his policy to be truthful." Her brow furrowed slightly.

"MaH'delyna, How did you get to SoS? I know that you arrived there before the planet was even discovered." He questioned. "I want a straight answer from you."

She looked down, and was silent while a waiter placed her salad and his _qagh_ on the table. "There was an accident. It was a long time ago. What does it matter?" Small lines of strain formed around her mouth, and Worf could almost see her eyes darken with pain.

He had a forkful of the worms, chewed and swallowed. "It means a certain amount, yes. If I don't know your past, I can't find out why these men were after you. You told me this attack was motivated by revenge."

"I did not!" She said aghast, but there was something in her eyes, perhaps fear, which only served to convince him he had struck a nerve.

"You weren't yourself at the time, but you did say it, actually, several times. WHO WAS YOUR ATTACKER? You knew who he was!" He hissed. He knew the only way to get her to tell him would be force.

She stood up, and leaned over the table. "I don't know! I had never seen him before in my life." MaH'delyna said coldly, her eyes flashing with fire.

It was the first time he had seen any anger in her. In a way, it suited her. "You are lying. I know it, you know it. Why are you protecting him?" Worf asked, and ate some more _qagh._

Her eyes widened. "How dare you? Why would I protect a monster? Don't you think I would tell you if I knew?" Worf could see her shake with what he could only surmise as fury.

"So why won't you tell me who you are, or were? I will find out, with or without your cooperation." He replied calmly, even coldly. He did not have the time or the patience to deal with her 'selective' memory. He sighed inwardly. Was he ever tired!

"Because I died a very long time ago and I don't want to be alive again. I don't even want to feel again. I died when they killed my son!" She looked at him, and leaned forward until her nose was only centimeters away from him. In a passioned voice, she hissed, "You think I lie, don't you. I bet you even suspect that I never lived on SoS, or that the boy I was with was even my son, but let me tell this, SON OF MOHG, if I could possibly get my hands on the men who destroyed my family, I wouldn't stop until they were DEAD!" MaH'delyna turned and swept from Ten-forward. Worf put his elbow on the table, placed his chin in his hands, and had another bite.

What was he missing? There was something wrong with all of this. Why was she so reluctant to tell him who she was? Had her father been dishonored? Maybe she didn't want someone to know she was alive. That made more sense. But if that truly was the case, why did he sense that she trusted him? And more disturbingly, did she honestly think him so unsubtle as to go and blurt out her name within the empire?

But the biggest question was how did she get to SoS in the first place? An accident? Improbable considering where SoS lay on the borders of the Federation and the Empire. He didn't think she was a plant, no, he knew she wasn't a plant. Beverly had medical evidence to the contrary, but that still didn't tell him how she arrived.

He rose and stalked out of the lounge. He had to get to work. His patience was exhausted. Worf would just find out from himself, which is probably what he should have done in the first place. The easiest way would be to enlist Kurn, Gowron and his spies be damned. Kurn had men whom both he and Worf trusted. Men who believed more in their honor than in Gowron's latinum.

He entered the turbolift and snapped "Deck five." Yes, Kurn would help him. He would trade secrets with his brother and see what Kurn could find in the Empire's rather sketchy database. As much as he was loathe to admit it, Kurn did have more contacts in the empire than he did.

He entered his office, and stalked over to his desk. Using his terminal he radioed Kurn's battle cruiser. Within a minute the call was answered.

The stark, brutal looking insignia of the empire flashed on the screen before going into the face of some lowly sub-commander. "What do you want?" The klingon said laconically.

Worf narrowed his eyes and snarled, "I will speak to minister Kurn NOW! Patch me through or I will have you disemboweled!" He was not in the mood to deal with some puffed up petty officer.

The klingon straightened. "Who are you?" He answered crisply.

"That is not your concern, you lowly son of a _TARG_!" He spat out.

The klingon saluted. "Aye sir!"

Worf curled his lip distastefully and nodded. There was one nice thing about being a federation officer, you didn't have to insult your lessors to get them to move. Training and discipline had gone downhill in the Empire.

Kurn's face came into view. "Worf! Brother! What are you doing, intimidating my new cadets! That's MY job!" He said with a chuckle.

"He was insolent. I believed you ran a tight ship. You should have him disciplined." Worf grunted.

"I try, but the military academies are plugging out officer cadets who seem to think they are important. I love it when they realize they are just lackeys." He shrugged. "I'll have him flogged. He did not offend you?"

"It is of no import. Kurn, I have decided to take you up on your offer."

"Which one? You ignore so many. You're bringing Alexander up to Rhisa during your next shore leave? I still have that villa there. Bujal and I could meet you -"Kurn urged.

Worf rolled his eyes dramatically. "No!" He shook his head. "I need your help with the investigation of SoS." He let the statement drift into the air.

"Oh how the mighty have fallen." Kurn said derisively, but his eyes burned with interest.

"Go stick your attitude in the great barrier. I'm serious." Worf growled.

"Fine. Fire away. Like the ferengi, I am all ears." Kurn smiled, showing several decaying teeth to the view screen. It was a sight which made Worf thankful for Starfleet's code of personal hygiene.

"I want you to look into all patrols that would have been conducted by a Trizek battle cruiser in the area of SoS." Worf growled.

"A KLINGON Trizek battle cruiser?" Kurn choked.

"We are the only race with a Trizek class of ships, Kurn. Don't' be an idiot."

Kurn ignored his insult. "Are you sure?"

"Aye. DNA scans on our survivor's body show she was violated by our own people. The destroyers of SoS were klingons."

"That isn't possible!" Kurn spat.

"Believe it Kurn. They were klingons."

"The dishonor! SoS was defenseless. There has to be some reason." Kurn replied aghast.

"Revenge is all our lady has mentioned." Worf answered with a shrug.

"Worf, SoS hasn't been discovered long enough for the inhabitants to offend someone with enough clout to have control of a battle cruiser. I just received permission to build mine, and I'm the damn foreign minister. Gowron hands out Cruiser commissions the way he hands out his own body parts. Not unless you're cute and female. One would think that's how the Duras sisters got theirs."

Worf allowed himself to laugh at Kurn's joke before becoming serious again. "The damage to SoS was done by a very specialized tracking computer, one we have already determined to be only available on the Trizek class cruisers. We also discovered a certain amount of Terilluim, which is only used in the environmental systems of the Trizek's." Worf pointed out.

"By the honor of the real Kahless, this is a mystery!" Kurn exclaimed.

"I also want you to run the name MaH'delyna through the data base, any reference to the name." Worf added.

Kurn looked dubious. "Can you give me anything else to reference the name to?"

Worf tugged on his beard. "Hmm, she made references to her father taking her to Earth on a diplomatic mission. In HIS personal cruiser. She also made references to her father having several ships under his control."

"That narrows things down a little. Only members of the High council have any control over the fleet." Kurn mumbled.

"Well, look into everything. I wouldn't take a child's remembrances of her father at face value. Children tend to remember their parents as larger than life." Worf said, momentarily thinking of his real father.

"I don't understand these questions. There were no non-SoSian people on SOS. The King of SoS wouldn't even allow traders to have even temporary lodgings on the planet."

"All right, MaH'delyna, our survivor, wasn't native to SoS. She came from the empire some time ago. In fact, it appears she arrived on SoS about three or four years before it was discovered by the Federation." supplied Worf.

"That isn't possible. The discovery of SoS was well documented. No one know about it. NO ONE, Worf." Kurn urged.

"We cannot be so sure of that. The proof is there, in her tissues."

"I doubt it; however, I will do as you ask."

"Anyway, I want you to look into any diplomatic missions to Earth in the last twenty four years. MaH'delyna is only twenty three, and according to medical evidence had been on the planet for at least twelve years." The lieutenant instructed.

"I don't like this Worf. I think you should talk to Gowron. I have the feeling there is more here than meets the eye." Kurn grumbled and yawned.

"It is my personal duty to find the answers. I made a vow to a superior officer. I cannot go back on it."

"I understand." Kurn changed the subject. "Worf, I have a feeling this is becoming personal to you. Do you think that wise?"

Worf sent his brother a withering look. "I am not personally involved. I am merely doing my duty as a starfleet officer, and as Head of Security on the Enterprise."

Kurn snorted derisively. "I do not have the brain of a _Targ,_ Worf. Don't treat me as if I did. One does not go around making vows at the drop of a dagger."

"You can take your little comments and blow them out your bilges. Now get me answers Kurn, or I will let Bujal know you are not the romantic poet you appear to be." Worf growled. Sometimes it seemed that Kurn had a chip on his shoulder the size of a large black hole.

Kurn held up his hands in protest. "I submit. That would be a fate worse than death."

"And Kurn, be discreet. Worf out." He clicked off his view screen.

He made another quick decision, and sent out another call to Gowron's private lodgings. He knew it was early morning on Qronos, and that Gowron would probably be asleep.

He was right. A moment later a very bleary eyed Gowron picked up the call. "This had better be very good." He snarled.

"It's Worf, Gowron."

Gowron fixed a beady eye at Worf. "So it is. What do you want?"

"This is an unofficial call."

The leader of the high council's eyes widened slightly with interest. "Well, go on."

Worf cleared his throat, knowing that he could get in trouble for this. "I want to trade some information. I will give you what you want to know, if you tell me what I want to know."

"What is it that you want?"

"I want to know if SoS was discovered by the Empire before it was discovered by the federation."

"You know it wasn't!" Gowron snapped.

"Do I? But what I know isn't important. I want to know what you know." Worf replied slyly.

Gowron grunted. "I am to tired to fence with you. I have been looking through the database myself. There was no documented discovered of SoS prior to the USS Tut-whatever. I have been going through private records. My information is accurate. Now, tell me about survivors!"

"There was one female survivor."

"That isn't enough, Worf."

"Then I will also tell you that SoS was attacked by a klingon force of unknown size and number." Worf answered.

"That still isn't enough. I already knew that. give my spies a little credit please." Gowron glared at Worf.

"That's all you are going to get, Gowron."

"Why?"

"Because, I don't know just how much I trust you. I haven't ascertained if you were involved or not."

Gowron opened his mouth to utter a retort when Worf saw something fly by Gowron's head, and heard the ensuing crash of breaking pottery. It was then followed by the Purr of an aroused female klingon.

Gowron rolled his eyes and looked pained. "QI'yaH!" He swore.

"Taken the oath have you, Gowron?"

"Oh shut up Worf. You know that I haven't. I have to go, but let me tell you, I DID NOT ATTACK SoS!" As the screen flickered out Worf watched Gowron duck again.

Worf still did not trust Gowron, but he did believe Gowron about the discovery of SoS. Gowron didn't seem to have any reason to lie. Seem being the operative word, though. This whole mystery was a matter of how things seemed and didn't seem. There were no real clues. No real answers.

"Computer," He barked. "Display the Medical records of the klingon Qing MaH'delyna,"

"Security access code?" Came the disembodied voice.

"Worf, Delta five Gamma."

The information scrolled up onto his terminal. He looked at the bottom of the screen. The first log had twenty pages to it. He shuddered. Twenty pages of medical jargon, and the next log would be the recording of the surgery. After that he was unsure. There were seven log entries by Doctor Crusher alone. It would be a long night. He hoped he wouldn't lose his _qagh._


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

The next week passed very slowly for Worf. There was little that he didn't already know to be found in the medical records. He had sent a sample of MaH'delyna's DNA to Kurn a few days ago, but Kurn had no answers, and now Kurn was on his way to Vulcan on a diplomatic mission which would take at least a week. Worf had very few reliable contacts within the empire, and he was unwilling to work through those contacts because he was sure they were being watched.

He had not seen MaH'delyna since they fought in Ten-Forward. He felt she was not a reliable source of information because she was too sporadic. There was something that Worf sensed she was hiding.

He felt guilty for not going to see her, for he was the only person she seemed comfortable with, and there were more things he wanted to discuss, but he had the patience to wait until later. Presently he was going through the last of Dr. Silar's autopsies. They pointed to the same thing. All the victims had been systematically beaten, and then, had their throats slit, or were disemboweled.

Standard methods of Klingon murder. The question was, why were they killed and she left alive. The word revenge kept cropping up. That was all very well and fine, but if it was revenge, why hadn't her attackers just killed her when they were finished their torture? And if they were just after her, why did they attack cities other than the capital? Why did they murder EVERYONE else? Why set up such an elaborate torture zone as that front plaza. It would have take time and organization to arrange such a place. Why didn't they kidnap MaH'delyna off the street, or, more efficiently, her attackers could have beamed down at night, captured her, beamed back to the ship, and taken off.

Worf slammed his fist onto his forehead. "I can't believe I've been so stupid." There must have been a reason why the other klingons had to die! Perhaps someone else on the planet knew! Someone her attackers knew about, but could not identify, and so they eliminated the individual by obliterating the entire population of the planet. It was sadistic, but effective. But what knowledge could the SoSians have that would or could affect the life of the high councilors. SoS was merely an inkblot on the starcharts; a completely self contained colony, with no political value what-so-ever. The SoSians never made contact with any members of the high council. What could they have known that would provoke such a brutal attack.

He was back where he started. It had to be something MaH'delyna knew. But did MaH'delyna know what it was her attackers thought she knew? If she did know, what could he do to 'jog' her memory? Trying to coax her to tell him everything had already proven to be difficult. MaH'delyna seemed very reluctant to tell him anything.

He was sitting at his desk in his quarters when his console beeped. It was Kurn. "Worf, I have news!"

"What?"

"I found a record of six visits to Earth between twenty four and fifteen years ago, here on Vulcan. These six happened to involve Vulcan, Human, and Klingon trade negotiations. Interestingly enough, the records of three these negotiations were missing from the Klingon database." Kurn said as he took a gulp of Romulan Ale.

"Did any of the Klingon diplomats have children?" Worf queried.

"Yes and no, but I will get to that in a moment. What I don't know is, were they eliminated on purpose, or were they simply never recorded. Admittedly, as the records in question are of a diplomatic nature, I would assume that someone would have entered them into the database, but you know how inept the record keepers of our race are." Kurn answered.

"You have a point. It wasn't until K'mpec became leader of the high council that accurate records started being kept."

Kurn shook his head, a pained look on his face. "And, lo, the klingon bureaucracy was born."

Worf smirked, "So what happened in these records that you are so smug about. I must admit I am curious because I wasn't expecting anything from you until next week!"

"Well, fifteen years ago, during the Xasek trade negotiations, the klingon diplomat, Keth'ex, was attacked by the chief Vulcan negotiator, a Dr. Gelvok. This caught my eye for two reasons. Firstly, an emotional vulcan is like an intelligent Romulan, very rare." Kurn smirked at his own joke.

"What provoked the attack on Keth'ex?" Worf prompted.

"Keth'ex accused Gelvok of collaboration with the Federation diplomat, an Admiral De Silva, against the Empire. The charges were quite hazy, and Keth'ex later retracted them, but suspicions were raised and the Vulcan government removed Gelvok from the diplomatic service. When the doctor was informed of this, he flew into a very unVulcan like rage, and attacked our man. The other klingon diplomat, Lersash, later apologized to the Federation diplomat on behalf of the Empire."

"What happened during the attack?"

"Gelvok lunged at Keth'ex, screaming he was going to kill Keth'ex, Keth'ex's daughter, and all klingons in general. That didn't exactly endear him to the Klingon delegation."

"His daughter?" Worf felt he was on to something.

"The second thing to catch my eye. His daughter, who, because an old tradition of Keth'ex's house has two names. DiH'Xang-MaH'delyna"

"How did you find that out?" Worf burned with curiosity. He felt as though he were teetering on the edge of a precipice, one more step, and he would fall into the arms of the answers he desired!

"The imperial database. Birth records of the council members and their offspring easy to find if you look in the right places. Kurn mentioned. "DiH'Xang was his first child. It appears in his joy of being given a daughter, he did all sorts of strange things."

"How so?" Worf raised a brow.

"Well, he broke a few rules by taking her into council meetings, taking her out on patrols, and taking her on trips to Earth when he went on interstellar trade conferences."

"Kurn, when you get back to the empire I want you to scour the Database for any additional information about Keth'ex, and his daughter. Any visual records about what she looked like." Worf ordered.

"I am a step ahead of you, brother, if you hadn't noticed already. Many of the older family records have been sealed by the order of Keth'ex, himself. DiH'Xang-MaH'delyna, it seems, died in an accident thirteen years ago. The only record of the accident that isn't sealed is her death certificate. Her mother and brother also died in the same accident. All records pertaining to their involvement to the accident are closed as well." Kurn told Worf. "Only an order from Gowron can open them."

"Keth'ex is still alive isn't he?" Worf queried.

"Yes, and still, technically anyway, a member on the council; he has been a recluse for many years. In the last six months; however, he has attended more of the council meetings, almost all, in fact."

"When did you last see him?" Worf asked.

"Last week. He wanted to go to Vulcan himself. He was extremely emphatic about it, rather a strange request considering he hasn't been in the diplomatic service since his family died." Kurn answered.

"Thank you, Kurn. You have given me something to work on. Keep up the good work. I will look into those records you mentioned and see what the federation computer comes up with." Worf looked at his brother. "Thank -you, Kurn. Worf out." He ended the transmission.

"Computer, I want to see any record of any klingon, Vulcan, and Human trade negotiations on Earth in the year 2355."

The computer displayed the only log in the database. He watched the incident Kurn mentioned, but found no visuals of the daughter during the actual negotiations. He had pretty much given up on seeing any pictures of Keth'ex's child when he came the record of the banquet held at the end of the conference.

The diplomats and their aides had beamed to Niagara falls for a banquet. The dinner was held in the building which sat right on the edge of the falls. When Keth'ex's party beamed down, there was a little girl in the diplomat's arms.

In the record, Keth'ex put her down and they walked hand in hand toward the table. She was dressed similarly to her father and his men, in the standard metal klingon breastplate, but instead of wearing pants she wore a long skirt. Worf couldn't see her face clearly, but he guessed that she would have been about eight or nine.

Keth'ex introduced her to the diplomats as the most precocious officer in the entire klingon fleet, his daughter, DiH'Xang. The camera zoomed in on her little face as she said that she wanted to have a battle cruiser just like her father. It was defiantly MaH'delyna.

Worf paused his view screen, and stared at the face which looked up to Keth'ex with such awe. There was no doubt in Worf's mind. This was MaH'delyna. So now what did he do? Did he confront her? Did he contact Keth'ex and tell him that his daughter was alive? He was poised to do that when something occurred to him. MaH'delyna had made it very clear that her father was deceased. Who would have told her of Keth'ex's demise? Toloth? Perhaps the SoSian wanted to keep her from leaving him. Worf shook his head. That seemed very flimsy to him. Alexander burst into their quarters like a photon torpedo. "Father, guess what!"

Worf glanced at his son. "What, Alexander?"

"We have a new teacher and she's a Klingon!" Alexander looked excited. "Her name is MaH'delyna and she's really neat!"

"What is she like?"

Alexander dropped his PADD, and jumped onto the couch. "Well, she was really quiet when we started our class, she just sat at the back of the room, but after lunch Miss Galstrom asked her to introduce herself. She seemed pretty shy, but she told us all about her herself, and her homeworld. Apparently, she's an artist."

"And what was the name of this planet, Alexander?" Worf asked quietly. Nothing like a few stock questions to appease the boy. He really didn't spend enough time with his son. Work always seemed to get in the way.

"SoS! I really like her, father. Did you know she was on the Enterprise?" Alexander bubbled cheerfully.

Worf almost curled his lip. "Yes, Alexander, I know about her. In actual fact, I think we are going to have a little chat in a few minutes."

"Say hello to her for me. Is it OK if I go have dinner at Mikayel's tonight?" Alexander asked.

"Fine, just be home by nineteen hundred hours." Alexander bounded off into his bedroom, with an energy found only in the young.

"Computer, where would I find Qing MaH'delyna?"

"Qing MaH'delyna is in the school, on deck sixteen." The computer answered crisply.

"Alexander, I am going out." Worf called as he left his quarters, and made his way to the Enterprises school. He entered the little reception area and walked over to the window which looked into the preschool day-care.

MaH'delyna was sitting the dark room, in a circle of slumbering toddlers. She was in her usual green, her hair up. She was holding onto a sleeping child; a picture of domesticity. Her head was down and her eyes were closed, but Worf could tell that she was not asleep.

Alexander's teacher, Miss Galstrom, came up behind Worf. "Hello Lieutenant. How can I help you?"

He turned and looked at the young blond woman, who was smiling pleasantly at him. "How is Alexander doing in his studies?"

"He is progressing very well. He is struggling with his math, but his history and literature marks are at the top of his class. I am very pleased with his efforts. He has improved so much since he arrived on the Enterprise."

"I, too, am pleased. If you have any problems with him, be sure to inform me immediately." He changed the subject. "Is it possible to talk to MaH'delyna?" He motioned at the Klingon on the other side of the glass.

"Go right ahead."

"Thank-you." He walked into the darkened room, his eyes adjusting quickly to the dim light.

"Worf." MaH'delyna murmured. He watched her breathing change slightly, and he could almost feel her body tense.

"Hello." He walked over to the circle of children, and stood facing her with his hands behind his back.

She patted the head of the child in her lap. "Children are so trusting. They never question." He was quiet. "What can I do for you, Son of Mohg?"

"You can tell me about your father, DiH'xang." He whispered quietly.

She started violently and her head snapped up. "That is not my name, not anymore, not in a very long time."

"But it is. At least according to your death certificate."

She put the child down with the others and the tiny human stretched, and snuggled into the mats. MaH'delyna then rose, walked over to a pint sized table and sat down. She made a motion for him to sit. "I told you before I died a long time ago."

"Yes, in an accident. What happened?" He replied, as he hunkered down into the small chair. He felt silly. He also felt the chair straining underneath him.

"I was in a ship. It blew up. End of story." She replied, gazing almost longingly at her sleeping charges.

"You, your mother and your brother."

She swung her head around and looked at him. "Yes, they were there too. You work very quickly, Worf. I am surprised. Anyway, they died, I lived. I wish I'd perished along with them."

"How long ago?"

"Thirteen years. Do we have to discuss this. It happened so long ago." She answered tersely.

"Yes we do. Tell me what happened?" He growled.

"I don't know. We were in a ship of my mother's. All I remember is my mother shaking me awake, and pulling me through the smoking corridors of the ship. There were flashing orange lights and people screaming everywhere. Mother pushed me into a shuttle craft and she, my brother and I took off. We were going toward a nearby planet t when the shuttle shook, and my mother started to scream about everyone being dead. In retrospect, I assume she meant her crew. We traveled closer and closer to the planet, the shuttle was probably damaged from the mother ship's explosion, and we crashed. My brother was most likely killed instantly, I saw, " MaH'delyna paused and her anger seemed to drain out of her. Worf was quiet as she stared of into space. "MaH'grel's skull was crushed up against the shuttle's bulkhead, like a TaHbaj nut. As for mother, I found her slumped over her console. I don't know if she was still alive at that point or not because I fainted. Later, three weeks later actually, I awoke in Toloth's house."

"Why where you on that ship?" Worf asked gently.

"I don't really know. Before we left on the ship, my father told me he had to send us away, because there were bad Klingons coming and there was going to be a fight. He said they wanted to hurt our family and he was sending us away to protect us. Father joked about it being a holiday on Mother's little tug boat. He told me I had to look after my mother and brother for him because he wasn't able to do it himself." MaH'delyna looked at Worf. "Neither my mother nor my father ever told me who the enemy was. I wanted to stay and help my father fight, but he told my my time as a warrior had not yet begun. He was a very brave klingon. Father said that everything would be normal soon, and that we would be back on the homeworld by summertime."

"You keep saying was. What makes you think your father is dead?" He asked.

"I know because Toloth told me." She answered far to quickly to be telling the truth.

Worf also noticed she wasn't looking at him. "And how did Toloth know?"

"Because he made inquiries. Worf, I told you this before!" Her tone was shrill, verging on panic.

"And what was the name of your father?"

"You must know already, if you know about my mother and brother." MaH'delyna answered tartly.

"I want to hear you say it." Worf almost whispered the words.

"What are you about, Son of Mohg?" She asked suspiciously.

"Tell me who your father was. It isn't much to ask." Worf pressed.

"His name was Keth'ex."

"You keep saying was."

The Klingon woman narrowed her eyes. "I say was because he IS dead." She hissed flatly.

"And If I was to tell you he was very much alive?" He uttered.

"I would say you were mistaken."

"He is alive. Or was last week. I am sure that his status hasn't changed much in the past few days. My brother saw him in fine health."

Her eyes filled with tears. "NO!" She breathed, her face a mask of fear.

"One would think you would be happy to hear of him alive!"

She buried her face in her hands and started to tremble. "He can't be!"

"I can contact him if you want? I am sure that a rendezvous could be arranged." Worf said gently.

"Does anyone in the empire know that I am alive?" She asked urgently.

"My brother knows, and the leader of the high council knows of a survivor." He was puzzled. She was acting so strange. "Why do you ask?"

She raised her head. "because if he learns that I am alive, I won't live to see another dawn." MaH'delyna uttered in a dreadful voice.

"Stop speaking in riddles." He said in a hoarse whisper.

"I thought that I killed him. I tried so hard. I just couldn't hit him anymore. He wouldn't fall. He wouldn't die." She stared at the table and wrung her hands. "Oh Kahless, what am I to do?"

He grabbed her by the shoulders. "I can't help you unless tell me what happened? Who did you try to kill? Answer me plainly, damn you!"

"My father." Her face was a mask of fear.

"Why?"

She shook her head and put her hands on top of his. "I tried to kill him after he killed my son.

His grip on her tightened unconsciously. "Your father killed your son?"

"He isn't my father, Worf. He's an impostor. I know. And Toloth knew. And that is why SoS was destroyed. Because the impostor didn't know who else knew." She sobbed.

"How did you know he was an impostor? You hadn't seen him in thirteen years?" He pulled her closer, so he could stare into her eyes try to read the truth in them.

"I knew that he was an impostor because of the things he didn't know. He didn't know the things my father and I did when I was a child. And my real father would never have let his men, "She choked," Let his men have me. My real father would never have watched, and laughed. My real father would never have killed my son." She collapsed into him. "Please, Worf, help me. Don't let them get their hands on me again!"

He put his hand on hers. "I will find the answers." He believed her. It struck him that no person, even the most experienced liar, could come up with a story like that. Besides, she wasn't a good enough actress to fool him when she was lying. "I won't let them hurt you."


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

Worf looked into his mirror. He didn't look bad, he admitted to himself. He was going to have dinner with MaH'delyna in her quarters tonight. Worf had himself convinced this was purely a business dinner, but there was a little nagging part of him that was looking forward to it far too much for it to be purely business.

Since the conversation the two days ago in the school, Worf had been trying to put the pieces of this ever more confusing puzzle together. MaH'delyna was completely convinced that her father was an impostor. He wondered if it could be possible. Deep down, he wanted to believe her, but he was skeptical. There was no way to prove that Keth'ex had even been to SoS. At least he couldn't find the proof here. Perhaps on the home world.

He wanted to talk to Gowron, who might be able to give him more answers. He doubted Gowron had any involvement in the massacre, but he had no way to be sure. Gowron was a good ally and a dangerous enemy. Until Worf could establish the Klingon leader's interest in this, he had to be quiet. Worf decided he would bring that up tonight. Perhaps MaH'delyna knew Gowron.

Worf looked in the mirror again. He looked like he was off on some secret mission. He dressed all in black, his sash a break to the starkness. His long brown hair was down. Worf turned sideways and put a hand on his stomach. Were the muscles in his chest sliding down to sit on his gut?

He walked over to the table and picked up the Qronos summer flowers he had replicated earlier. Normally, he wouldn't take flowers, it was definitely a human custom, but his adoptive mother, Helena, told him years ago that one didn't go to a dinner at a female's without taking something. He hadn't been able to think of anything other than flowers.

He looked around his quarters. Alexander was at Ensign Gallagher's, yet again. Worf was beginning to think that Alexander considered the Gallagher's his home.

He walked out of his quarters and dashed for the nearest turbo-lift. He felt like a fool, carrying the flowers around. He felt his face flame as he saw Riker and Troi in the turbolift. The burly Klingon turned to them and put the flowers behind his back. "Commander, Counselor. Deck Six." He choked out, feeling strangled.

"Worf." Riker nodded, a half smile on his face.

Troi licked her lips. "You look rather dashing tonight, Lieutenant."

Worf felt trapped. He couldn't exactly say that he was going to play Pharisi Squares. "I have an appointment."

Riker nodded wisely and winked to Worf over Troi's head. "I see."

"It isn't what you think, Sir." Worf let a little bite into his tone.

"The Commander wasn't thinking anything. We all know that he is incapable of conscious thought." Troi replied acidly.

Riker winced. "Just because you beat me at chess is no reason to be so obnoxious, Deanna!"

Troi looked conspiratorial at Worf. "He wouldn't believe me when I told him I could beat Data at chess."

Worf felt his lips twitch. "You should demand a forfeit."

"Perhaps I should."

"Worf! Men are supposed to stick together!" Riker sounded hurt.

"With all due respect, a smart warrior allies with a victor, commander, not a loser." Worf replied trying to keep a straight face.

Riker blinked and looked at Deanna. "I think I've just been insulted!"

The door to the turbo lift swished open. "If you will excuse me, Sir, Counselor, I must go, vegetarianism awaits." Worf answered, and strode from the turbolift, moving his flowers so they were in front of him. He slowly walked down the hall towards MaH'delyna's quarters. She had told him she was going to try and prepare traditional SoSian dishes. He was more than slightly dubious because part of him knew there was going to be no meat in this meal. He clenched his fists and dug his nails into his palm. He was NOT going to be closed minded tonight.

Worf pressed the door chime on the door panel and waited patiently for the soft "Come." He entered MaH'delyna's quarters and was amazed by the changes she had made. There was the most amazing mural painting on canvas leaning on a wall, and on another hung what looked like a dress made of tiny gold tiles. There were several of the beautiful little sculptures she rescued from SoS sitting on her desk and end tables, and on top of the couch was spread a green tapestry of a hunting scene.

MaH'delyna drifted over to Worf from the replicator. She looked different from before. For one thing, her shimmering forest green dress was not as severe as some. It was still floor length, but instead of being a solid fabric, the skirt was made from panels of sheer green silk, overlaid to be opaque and yet giving the appearance of not being so. It had long very tight sleeves, and a tight, square necked bodice. Her hair had been braided into a wheel around her head, similar to how it had was in the diplomatic record of Admiral Trevenne's. She looked very nice. He told her so.

MaH'delyna smiled and looked demurely down at the floor. "Thank you for coming, Worf."

He walked over and handed her the flowers. "For you."

She looked surprised. "Thank you, again. Have a seat." She took the flowers and motioned to the couch.

Worf watched her as she put the flowers in a vase. His eyes strayed to the canvas on the wall. The painting was an impressionistic portrait of an outdoor picnic. The figures seemed focused in some ways, and hazy in others. It was almost as if the painter was looking through a prism. "Where did you find the painting?" He asked.

"I painted it, finished it last night. Do you like it?" MaH'delyna watched him, a smile on her face. It relieved Worf to know she was recovering from her ordeal nicely. Deanna's idea of having the klingon working in the school was definitely a good one.

"It is interesting. The longer you look at it, the more your eye travels around the picture." He was extremely impressed.

"Why thank-you, Lieutenant. I am glad that you like you like. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Prune juice if you have it. Is there anything that I can do to help you?" Worf attempting to be polite, and thought he was doing quite well at it too.

"No I think I have everything ready." MaH'delyna bustled between the replicator and the table. She glided over with the prune juice, as well as her own drink, a tall, clear, red liquid, and sat opposite him. "Dinner should be ready in a few minutes." She smiled slightly.

"How have things been at the school?" Worf asked, trying to fill in the silence.

"I enjoy it there. The children are so creative." Her smile blossomed.

"I am glad that you like there."

"I assume your son is Alexander?" She inquired.

A tiny little part of him froze. He wondered what she was going to say. "Yes." He practically squeaked.

"He is a remarkable child, extremely gifted. You and your mate must be very proud of him."

"I am. I know his mother would be also; however, she watches from Stohvokhor." He replied gruffly.

"I am sorry."

Worf felt like he had to say something. "It happened over three years ago. K'Ehlyr and I were close in some ways, but were not meant to be together. I find it difficult to raise Alexander alone. He is a very- "He paused," A very energetic child." That was a word for it.

"He excels in his studies."

Worf didn't want to touch that one. "What do you do in the school?"

"I mostly look after the younger ones, between the ages of three and five. Occasionally, I teach the older children about painting, but as I have no formal training as a teacher, I am not much help with the older students." MaH'delyna explained. "On SoS, there was a certain class of, to be snobbish, peasant women who did such things as teaching. I never realized how fulfilling their work was."

"I am pleased that you like it there."

"I can't believe it has been two weeks. I feel like living again. This place, the children, I feel safe here. A week ago, I wanted to die, and now- " She looked over at the table. "We should eat."

They both rose, he followed her to the table and sat where she indicated. It didn't smell all that bad. The table was covered with a green cloth, and laid with peculiar cutlery. Around the table there were different plates filed with strangely textured food. He was fascinated. The dishes were different colors, and there was a veritable rainbow of sauces.

She poured a liquid, presumably wine, into a tall fluted glass beside his elbow, and sat opposite him. "You will have to forgive me, I had to improvise a certain amount. A few of the SoSian plants were recorded in your computer, but many weren't."

"What do I do?"

"Just select what you want from the plates."

"What are they?" Worf was always suspicious of foreign food.

She proceeded to name the various foods. Many of them appeared to be made from tubers and leaves. as well as a few noodle dishes. Worf tried a little bit of everything and was very pleasantly surprised. He knew there was no meat in anything, and yet one of the dishes tasted so much like Klingon sand spider, he was in startled. Some of the dishes were spicy, and some where very sweet. He was a very full klingon when he was finished.

"That was excellent." He laid his cutlery on his plate.

She blushed and looked down. "I haven't cooked in a very long time. I was worried that it wouldn't turn out." She picked up the dishes and piled them in the replicator. at the press of a button, they were gone. "Your Federation technology certainly has it's uses." MaH'delyna took her drink and sat down on the couch.

Worf picked up his glass and followed suit. He sat a respectable distance away from her, but still on the couch. "The replicator does save time. Thank you for dinner."

"I am glad that you enjoyed it."

He took a sip and looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "DiH-Xang MaH'delyna. It is a formidable name. The name of a warrior queen."

She looked sadly forward. "I am afraid I haven't proven to be brave." Her lips twisted bitterly.

Worf put his drink on the table and took her hand. "I think you very courageous. A lesser person would never have survived what you have."

MaH'delyna turned to him. "I should have made them kill me. Isn't it a klingon rule that one dies before one accepts dishonor?"

"You did everything that you could."

"Did I? I tried to kill the impostor. I fought him the entire time, but at the end, I would have sold my own mother to make them stop." She blinked wearily. "Gods, I would have sold my soul to the _Fek'lyr_ for a respite."

"MaH'delyna, I-" He stopped short as she continued.

"Worf, do you know what it is like when you are helpless to control what happens to your own body?" She asked quietly.

He shook his head. "Tell me." He asked with a strange, morbid fascination.

She inhaled deeply. "At first, I was too shocked to react to any of it. They came as a group to my house, and my father started asking me all sorts of questions. It didn't take me long to figure out Keth'ex was not who he appeared to be. When I blithely told him he was an impostor, and asked him and his retainers to leave, one of the men started to beat me. Toloth wasn't home, but Zergew, my bodyguard, attacked the group. Ten verses one was not a fair fight. He was their first victim. At least for him it was quick."

"Go on." He asked, hoping that if she talked about it, she would feel better. He knew from a talk he had with Troi, MaH'delyna hadn't told anyone about the massacre.

"I was so frightened, I started to scream. The city began to shake and there were load explosions and fires, and people screaming. The strange warriors where everywhere. Parts of that are sketchy, I think I've blocked them out. Soon, only the Villa was standing, and many people that I knew, and several I didn't, were being held prisoner in the courtyard. Every time I couldn't answer one of Keth'ex's questions, he butchered, or had his men butcher one of the people." She raised a shaking fist to her mouth. "They ripped Toloth apart." It was the faintest of whispers.

He gently pulled her close. "MaH'delyna, you have to let it go. You have a new life ahead of you."

She leaned into his chest. "Does that mean I forget the old? I did when I landed on SoS. Worf, it doesn't make the pain go away."

"I know." He put his arm around her. "I know the pain never goes away. You only get numb."

She lifted her head. "Why do I trust you, Worf? Every other man I see terrifies me, but I feel safe with you. Why?" It was almost a plea.

"Perhaps you know that I won't hurt you."

"Because you gave me your vow." She said.

"Because I gave you my vow." He repeated softly.

"Your honor is very important to you."

"It is all that I have. Without honor a warrior is nothing." He said gruffly.

"But you said you were raised by humans? How did you learn about things such as honor?" MaH'delyna asked quietly, her pale face alight with curiosity.

"My adoptive parents wanted me to explore the Klingon culture. They felt it important that I know my own people." Worf explained.

"Your parents were very wise.. I went from one people to a different set of people, and now I have to go back to the former. I don't remember the rules of imperial society. I don't know how to act there. I shock you, and you are relatively humanized." She sighed. "I am afraid of the future."

"You needn't be be afraid. The future will come as it comes. It is the present which is important." He replied. He didn't know if he liked her humanized comment. He thought of himself as a klingon klingon, not a humanized klingon.

"Worf, I don't think I should go back to the Empire. The impostor will see me dead."

"MaH'delyna, I told you before, my brother and I will find the impostor and see him brought to justice. You have nothing to fear." He wished she would understand.

"Another vow?" She smiled impishly.

He made an affirmative noise, a cross between a hmm and a grunt. They sat together silently for a moment. "Does the name Gowron mean anything to you?"

She turned her head and looked to him. After a moment she said, "Yes, Gowron was the son of my father's ally, Zeng. He was fostered with us for while right before my father sent us away. I used to follow him around all the time, he must have thought me a real pest. I believe he was fond of me, despite his continual scowling." MaH'delyna mused. "Is he still alive?"

"Oh yes, and a constant thorn in my side. Gowron is the leader of the High Council."

"Even the clouds daren't fly so high. He always said he would have power. I am glad he was able to make his ambitions come true. He used to get so fierce when things didn't go his way."

"He hasn't changed." Worf half growled.

"No, I don't think he would. When I knew him he would have been around the age of inclusion. He was very set in his ways then." MaH'delyna looked at Worf. "So what does Gowron have to do with all this?"

"He is anxious to find out the name of the survivor of SoS, and he wants to know what happened. Was he there?"

"No. Gowron wasn't there."

"He could be of great help in my investigation. Can I tell him that you are alive?" Worf hoped that she would say yes.

"Is he trustworthy?" She asked warily.

"You probably know him better than I. What do you think? I personally believe him to be an honorable klingon." Worf said, feeling very glad that Kurn wasn't around to hear him.

"I remember him as an adolescent, I know nothing of the man he has become. If it would help you, I guess it doesn't bother me. You do what is best." MaH'delyna conceded.

He clasped her hand firmly. "Thank-you. I want you to know I honor the trust you have placed in me." Worf said sincerely.

She looked down. "You saved me. I have to trust you. I have no one else to believe in."

He reached up and touched her soft hair. He pulled her closer and looked into her eyes. "I won't let you down." He murmured thickly. With his free hand he traced the line of her jaw, and growled softly, unconsciously.

Her eyes widened in surprise. She went absolutely still. She was like a mouse mesmerized by the cobra. He didn't like that analogy. It sounded too predatory. He growled again, softer now.

MaH'delyna's eyes closed and she moaned. She slumped forward and began to tremble. "Not again." She cried, in the barest of whispers.

He started violently, all thoughts of lust gone from his mind. He grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her to face him. Her eyes were blank. "Come back, little mother." He said quietly.

"Please, don't hurt me again."

"Don't do this to yourself. Don't live it again. I am sorry." He declared urgently.

She began to hyperventilate, and shake out of his grasp. "Noo!"

He held her firmly but gently, unsure of how long this would last. He felt horrible, like an animal. He didn't know how those feelings had come over him. He had had no seduction in mind, at any part of the evening. For some reason it felt like a good idea at the time.

"MaH'delyna, it's Worf. Worf! Please come back to me!"

"MaH'delyna went deathly still. "I submit, just don't kill my son!" She blinked and he could see the fog drain from her eyes. "Oh Worf, I am so sorry. I couldn't control it." She cried, and buried her face in her hands.

"It was my fault. I am sorry." He didn't just feel like an animal, he was an animal.

"I kept telling myself that you wouldn't hurt me, but I just lost it." She took a deep, shuddering breath.

"I will leave you. I am sorry." He rose.

She shook her head. "You don't have to leave." She moved for his hand, but he stepped out of reach.

He walked toward the door. "It is better that I go. I do not trust myself. Good night. I am sorry I spoiled the evening." He left her quarters. He felt absolutely sick. He never felt so disgusted with himself in his life.

He walked aimlessly down the halls until he came to a turbolift. "Rec deck." He snarled to the computer. What made him do it? She wasn't the sort of woman that he desired. He knew that. Why? Why was he attracted to her? Was it because she was klingon and she was there? And it had been a long time?

He entered the dark gym, the only light coming from the huge windows, the stars streaking by. There was no one inside. He walked over to a stuffed punching bag, and hit it several times.

After a moment he ripped his sash off, and began to hit the bag in earnest. In the dark it became his faceless enemy. He killed the mastermind of the SoS attack over and over. Soon his body was covered in a sheen of sweat, but he still kept hitting the bag. His fists hurt. His legs ached. He took another swing. He felt the vibrations of the impact all the way up his arm. He grunted. Worf struck at the enemy with his other arm. The bag swung slightly. He kicked it. It swung harder. The stars kept on going by, a streaming blur. He punched the bag again, and shouted at it. His clothing was soaked. Worf felt the sweat sting his eyes, but he didn't pause to wipe it away. Left. Right. Kick. One for Toloth. One for Ze'Hestral. One for every other victim. One for MaH'delyna. The bag swung wildly. He was shaking. He kicked it. He rounded on it. The bag was his enemy. It was the impostor. He grunted as he beat it. It had to be eliminated for its crimes. For his crimes. He was an animal, forcing his lust on an injured woman. His left hand slammed into the bag. His right. Another punch for every other victim in the universe. One hit for his mother. One for his father. Worf felt his hair whip around him. One for Khitomer. Swing. Jab. Another for SoS. Thrust. Jab. One for K'Ehlyr. Swing. His thighs quivered with exhaustion. The stars kept streaming by. The bag was Duras. The bag was Q. The bag was a Romulan officer. The bag was his faceless new enemy. He could feel his knuckles crack, the sinews snapping, but he wasn't about to stop. Worf wanted the pain. Reveled in it. Swing. Right. Swing. Left. His breathing came in harsh gasps. His burning lungs could not get enough air. Impact. Inhale. Impact. Exhale. His hands were beginning to swell. The stars went by, endlessly. He couldn't stand, he fell to his knees. He yelled. He was losing his strength. He couldn't control the weakness that was stealing over him like a pariah. He kept hitting that bag in the dark, down on his knees, yelling a prayer to a thousand Klingon Gods. The impacts were less frequent. His arms were lead, useless. He couldn't go anymore. He couldn't breath. His throat was raw. His body shuddered. He had nothing left. There was nothing left. He moaned and collapsed against the bag, feeling like an old man. He watched the stars streak by.


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

An hour later Worf roused himself off the floor of the Recreation hall. He stumbled up to his quarters. He was unable to think. His brain was centered in the abominable pain in his right hand and in his left foot. He could see the swelling of his hand. It was beginning to look more like a baseball bat, and he could feel his boot slowly getting tighter and tighter. He had been stupid, and now he was going to pay. He collapsed into his chair, shivering He was so cold inside.

He gingerly took off his clothing and stepped into his shower. His body cried out at the heat and he could barely stand. He crawled out of the shower and slowly navigated his way into bed. "Computer, "He rasped, "What time is it?"

"It is O-three hundred hours, twenty minutes, eighteen seconds."

He groaned. He hurt. He hurt too much to be alive. He liked it that way. He was able to doze, but by seven in the morning the pain was so intense it woke him up. Worf admitted to himself he had to go to sick bay. The thought did not please him. He got up and hobbled into his uniform. Gritting his teeth, he laced up his boot as tight as he could make it. It was a chore when one handed. His fingers looked more like sausages than digits. He hoped that he hadn't broken anything.

When he stepped on his booted foot, it was like stepping on fire. He clamped down on his tongue to keep from grunting. He took another step. Perhaps his body would numb after a few minutes. Another step. Numb was wishful thinking. Yet another. He was in the hall, and the nice thing about being up this early in the morning was no one else was around. Two more steps. It got easier as he went along. The pain became more regular and less jabbing. Rather like a headache that wouldn't go away. He looked up. The turbo lift never looked so far. Miles. Abruptly, he realized someone was coming down the hall. He straightened up and made an attempt to walk normally, trying not to limp. He was walking slowly, but perhaps no one would notice.

It was Data. Worf put his injured arm behind his back. "Lieutenant. I did not expect to see you up this morning. You are not on the duty roster today. I have observed that humans tend to sleep late on their day off."

Worf grunted noncommittally. Perhaps Data would continue with his blethering and not notice Worf's condition. Fat chance.

"Worf, I have noticed you are not walking at your usual brisk pace. Are you unwell?" Data was incurable inquisitive.

"I was thinking." Worf rasped. His throat was so raw. He wondered why. He remembered yelling a little last night, but not for long. Or was it? The strain of walking normally was beginning to wear on Worf. He wasn't about to limp, but he slowed down even more. He ground his teeth. Why couldn't Data go away and leave him to die in private. Worf should have stayed in his quarters and gotten drunk. Alcohol was a Klingon substitute for medical attention.

"I see. Are you sure that you are well? Your velocity has dropped another quarter kilometer per hour."

Worf snapped his head up. What in the name of Kahless did Data want now? Worf wanted relief, and the urge to take his frustrations on the overly pleasant android was almost overpowering. Bah, he thought to himself. He would probably break the other hand. "I am tired." It was a seemingly plausible excuse. He was tired, and he wasn't about to tell Data he had beat himself up on the Rec Deck. He wouldn't make a laughingstock of himself.

"Then you should be in your quarters. I have also noticed that most humanoid races need at least nine hours of sleep on a consistent basis."

Worf was desperate. "I will take your advice. I will go to bed." He would say anything to get away from Data. He would even kiss a Romulan. He wsould touch a tribble. All he wanted was to get to sickbay.

The doors to the turbolift loomed in front of him and he stepped in. To his absolute despair, so did Data. "Where are you going, Worf?"

He was definitely not going to give Data the satisfaction of knowing. "Deck Five." He gasped. He could feel the sweat bead on his brow. His good hand began to tremble.

"Bridge." Data said.

Worf exited on deck five. He waited a moment outside the Turbo lift before pressing the call button again. The lift returned, blessedly empty. Worf sighed with relief and limped inside. "Sick bay." He groaned. Mercifully, the trip was quick, and the turbo lift exited just across the corridor from sickbay.

Not caring what anyone else thought, and deciding pride was not worth the agony, he hobbled across the hall. He was shaking from head to toe. Some warrior he was. He couldn't even handle a sore foot. He was sure the warriors of Stovokhor were laughing at him.

He was moving into the treatment area, passed the Chief Medical Officers office when he heard a piercing "Worf!" It was just his luck that Beverly had come to work early. He gnashed his teeth, and fought the urge to lose last night's dinner.

"Doctor Crusher." He turned his head to see her, and her seemingly trusty sidekick, Deanna Troi come rushing out of her office. He rolled his eyes. He should have just shot himself down in his quarters. It was just not fair. He couldn't win. He sighed.

"Worf, you look like death personified. Let's get you over to a bed." Beverly bustled around him.

"I am just fine." Worf pulled his pride around him like a cloak and put his full weight on his foot. Mistake. He almost fell flat on his ridged forehead. He let his breath out explosively. Without looking, the doctor reached out to steady him and grabbed his right arm. He yelled and pulled away, over balancing himself onto his left foot. Unable to take this final abuse, his knee buckled and he fell to the floor.

"Nurse!" Beverly shouted. "Worf! What did you do to yourself?" She asked.

"I want to die." He mumbled into the floor.

Troi looked at him, and it appeared to Worf she was stifling a giggle. "I don't think that's an option."

Using his good arm and leg, he managed to get himself onto his feet. "I'm leaving." Worf said as he tried to turn around. He felt dizzy, but suddenly there was no pain. Well, not much pain. He tried to take another step, but even the thought of stepping on that foot made him wince.

"You aren't going anywhere!" Beverly ordered.

Worf suddenly found himself flanked by two nurses, who guided him onto the nearest biobed. As he sat down on it, Beverly began to wave a tricorder around he head. "Look, Doctor, just give me a shot to make the pain go away, and I will be just fine." He growled.

"Worf, what did you do to yourself?" Beverly murmured.

"I tripped." He snarled, curling into himself. He held his arm into his chest and scowled at her defensively.

Beverly looked at the nurse. "Get his boot off." Worf felt himself blanche. "You have crushed three of your metacarpal bones in your hand, the trapezoid, capitate and hamate, as well as the cartilage that separates those bones." He gasped as his boot came off. She continued. "And as for your foot! You've slammed your foot into something so hard, you've broken your calcaneus, bruised your talus, fibula and your fifth metatarsal." She looked up at him. "You did NOT trip."

He looked at her, breathing hard, his eyes wide and angry. "So I was bumbling around in the dark, TRIPPED on my chair, and when I reached out to catch myself pulled the chair down on top of myself and there you go." He narrowed his eyes and growled.

Troi piped up from the corner of the room. "You are lying, Worf."

"Bone knitter." Beverly asked the nurse. She began to work on his injuries, and he felt better. "I would say that you were in a fight."

"And the punching bag won. Are you satisfied?" He snarled.

She had the grace not to smile. "Worf. What happened last night?"

"I was practicing some moves. I made a mistake. End of story."

And to make his day even worse, if it could possibly be made even worse, MaH'delyna walked into sickbay. "Doctor, just a little cyanide would put me out of my misery. Show me your merciful side and give me some!" He hissed the order nastily.

"What is this sudden fixation with death, Worf? I think I'll recommend you see Troi on a regular basis." She had finished with his foot and was reaching for his hand when MaH'delyna saw him.

He hopped off the biobed and put his arm behind his back. "MaH'delyna." He choked, and tried to smile faintly.

"Worf, I didn't realize that you would be here." She walked over to him. "I am so sorry about last night."

Beverly snapped at him. "Give me your arm!"

He thrust past her, neglecting his boot. His foot gave him a twinge. "It was all my fault." The guilt came flooding back. He felt sick. "I won't disturb you again."

He started backing up towards the entrance to sickbay, glad that the doctor had fixed his foot, first.

"Worf, Get back here! Do I have to call security?" Beverly called.

"Worf, is there something wrong with you? What happened last night was not your fault. I was surprised, not-" MaH'delyna looked very concerned.

"It was wrong, terribly wrong. I'm a monster. I won't come near you again." He realized that he was being irrational, but he was tired. Worf glanced over at Beverly, "Doctor, I am fine." He wiggled the fingers in his right hand, grinding his teeth at the feelings of protest his body was sending him. "I will come and see you later." He backed out of sick bay, and into the turbolift. He ordered it to his quarters.

He looked down and realized he was missing a boot. He had the brains of a _Targ_ , a very stupid _Targ._ He walked into his quarters, lay down on his couch, placed his arms over his chest, and tried to doze. Some time later Worf was roused by the chime on his door.

"Come." He mumbled, sitting up.

Beverly, Troi and the Captain entered. "Sir!" He stood up and thrust his sore hand behind his back.

Beverly approached him. "Arm!" She ordered coldly. He guiltily presented it and she worked to knit the bones back into place.

"Lieutenant, we are concerned about your present mental state. Personally, I have received many disturbing reports about your activities in the past twelve hours." Picard declared gravely.

"I can explain, Sir."

"Worf, you needn't get defensive. Just tell us what is going on, and tell us why the exercise bag in the gym has been reduced to a shred of its former self?" Picard replied.

"I have been under a small amount of stress of a personal nature. I did not realize the damage I had caused." He felt his face burn with shame. Why was he losing control? Was it because he was distressed with his inability to find the answers to the entire SoS problem? Was it because he didn't know how MaH'delyna fit into his life?

"Worf, don't you think some shore leave might be in order?" Beverly mumbled as she worked.

"I will take it if ordered, but my duties here compel me to stay." He said.

"I don't feel that is quite necessary, but I do want you to talk to Troi." Picard crossed his arms over his chest in a manner that did not encourage argument. "Worf, I don't want to hear of you leaving sickbay without receiving treatment for your injuries again. It is inexcusable. I realize when one is under stress, these things sometimes happen, but don't let it happen again."

"Yes sir."

"Also, I have no qualms with my officers exercising, but I don't like to hear of them causing serious injury to themselves in the process. That is also inexcusable." Jean-Luc continued firmly. "Be a tad careful. A new gym bag can always be replicated, but you can't. "

"Yes sir. I will be more careful in the future." Worf felt broken. He was so disgusted with himself.

The captain nodded and swept from the room. Beverly finished and also left. "She's a little upset with you, Worf." Troi had moved to stand before him.

"I caused a scene." Definitely an understatement.

"And you made her worry. She is very concerned about you. We all are."

"I apologize."

"What has gotten into you, Worf? I sense your depression. I haven't seen you like this since we left SoS, yet even then you felt anger. Now all I sense is self-loathing." Troi laid a hand on his arm.

He buried his head in his hands. "MaH'delyna was right. Klingons are animals." He said.

"I never heard her say that. I seem to remember her say violence was an integral part of your culture." Troi said.

"I forced myself on her." He whispered.

"I can't believe that. She seemed pleased to see you, and concerned about you this morning. I don't think she would react that way if you had raped her." Troi maintained evenly.

Worf flinched. "She went off into that place in her mind. She was afraid of me." He grunted.

"Certain sounds, or smells or sights sometimes will trigger that sort of thing. It wasn't you; it was something you did."

He stood up. That brings me a great deal of comfort, he thought. He wanted to be alone, wanted to go to bed and sleep. "It does not matter."

"Don't shut me out, Worf. I want to help you deal with whatever is bothering you." Troi pleaded.

"I don't have the answers, Troi. I have what, two weeks to find out what really happened on SoS! TWO WEEKS! That isn't very long. I have some leads, but I don't feel they are going anywhere! I have never felt so incredibly useless in my entire life." He raged around his quarters. "You can't know what it is like! I am dishonored. I am nothing. I told MaH'delyna she was safe with me! Fat chance! She invites me to her quarters and I jump her like, like.." He couldn't go on.

"Perhaps like someone who is attracted to her." Troi supplied evenly, one eyebrow raised.

He narrowed his eyes. "That's just it. I am not."

"I wouldn't say that Worf. It is very obvious there is an attraction between you and she. She walked into sick bay and you became totally irrational. You did things I have never seen you do before. A grotesque bootless pirrouette for starters.

"And look at the condition you were in? I have seen the bag on the rec deck. There is nothing left of it! Nothing! All that is there are the remains of the weights that keep it from swinging. It's been totally destroyed. What made you do that?" She exclaimed.

"I don't know! I was upset. I took it out on the bag. Call it stress." He threw his hands into the air.

"I'm glad you didn't take it out on me. I wouldn't have survived." She commented dryly.

"That is so funny." He said witheringly. He scowled darkly at her.

"I understand that we all do things to relieve our stress, but I wish you would come and seen me before you resort to maiming pieces of gym equipment in the future." Deanna replied.

"I will try to control myself better in the future. I was upset."

"It isn't a question of control, Worf. You are building a wall between yourself and everybody else. All your friends have been watching you tie yourself up into knots for weeks."

"I have not!" He protested wildly.

"Worf, you have. You are horribly preoccupied. The least little thing sets you off; you practically beheaded Ensign Xad for being away from her post, for example." She pointed out.

"The ensign's actions could have endangered the ship in a time of crisis." Worf explained tightly.

"Worf! The ensign was just off duty."

"But you do not leave your post until your replacement has arrived."

Deanna's eyes blazed. "You see? That's just it! She had an unwell child in sickbay. She was worried. You have become totally deaf to other peoples problems. You're like a tightly coiled spring about to snap!"

"I am sorry if I don't have time to consider the problems of the entire universe." He said acidly.

Troi got up. "I can't talk to you when you're like this. I've taken you off active duty for the next week. Stress leave if you will. Come and see me in the morning." She stormed out of his quarters.

He sat down, his face in his hands. "Damn!" He muttered.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter Thirteen**

After Deanna left, Worf went into his bedroom and grabbed his last bottle of Romulan Ale. It was a souvenir he had picked up last time he had been on Rhisa. He didn't normally drink, but he felt a need to numb himself. A part of him said his need to get drunk was childish. He told that part to shut up, and picked up the flask and peered at the electric blue liquid. It was only half full. He shook the bottle, mesmerized. There was enough to get him absolutely whammed, if he felt like it. Anyway, he was on leave. He could do anything he damn well wanted. He replicated himself a tumbler, and sloshed the ale in. The glass was about a quarter full. He shot it back, and poured himself another. He felt the alcohol burn down the back of his throat, and spread down through his body. He felt a little better. Worf knew it was idiotic to get drunk on purpose, he also knew it was totally out of character for him, but he didn't care. He was on leave. He could afford to have a hangover tomorrow. He would even admit to deserving it.

Worf walked over and sat down on the couch. "Computer, dim the lights by one hundred percent." The machine complied instantly. "Can you play me the klingon opera _Xe'Hegh'l'ahr_?" The strains of the opera filled the dark room. He another shot drink.

Romulan ale was extremely potent, he thought. Worf devoted a moment to ponder his chosen poison, as he stared broodingly at the decanter. It was roughly eighty percent alcohol. Worf grinned. He remembered the first time he ever had the drink. He'd been in the academy, in his third year. The night after all his exams had been finished, he and some friends celebrated another year gone.

Worf still didn't understand just how the commanding officer of the academy had found that it had been Worf's group of friends who dyed the grass on the campus blue. Worf smirked in remembrance. It had been a wild night, and he had paid for it. He'd never been so sick in his life, and of course, he had been much to proud to go to the Infirmary to get the hypospray to make the effects go away. Following that debacle, he had always been careful when it came to overindulgence.

He slammed back another glass and muttered to himself. "That's your problem, Worf, You're too proud, and there is nothing that is ever going to change that." The opera played on. He nursed another glass, and sat alone in the darkness. All he had was his pride. His pride had helped him through many scrapes. If you believe you can bring down anyone, it usually intimidated those who believed they could take you down. It was all a question of attitude. It seemed everything came down to attitude.

If only he could get MaH'delyna out of his mind. It disturbed him to see her loose her control the way she had, but he knew it was his fault. He shouldn't have been so stupid as to have pressed his romantic attentions on her. She'd just been raped two weeks ago! And as if she would want to get involved with a man of the species who attacked her! As well, she probably was in mourning! She lost her mate on SoS, She lost her child on SoS! He felt like an animal, unable to control himself. He didn't want to see her scared like that ever again. The feeling of being responsible for a person loosing control of their mind was more than he could bear.

He wondered if the men who used her on the planet felt any guilt. Probably not. They probably didn't even remember or care. Events similar to the carnage on SoS happened often during the Klingon civil war. Pillage always seemed to be a common tactic in Klingon warfare, destroy your enemy by destroying his psyche. Mental warfare. It struck Worf suddenly; was that why MaH'delyna had been left alive? So she could go on living in that charnel setting? To live long enough to die completely insane? In the state MaH'delyna was in, she might have lived several days, maybe even a week. If there was any food to be found, she might have lived indefinitely. But one thing Worf was sure of, not even the strongest of warriors could keep his sanity in that situation. Perhaps it was never MaH'delyna's attackers intention for her to die. If they could keep her alive, and insane... He shrugged, that didn't make sense. If they had wanted her alive, they would have left a guard of some type. Worf realized he was just being a fool. He had yet another drink, and watched the stars go by.

He was going to die. Oh yes, he was going to die. He felt like someone had taken a phaser drill to the back of his head. He cracked open half an eye, and shut it very quickly. It was too bright out. All the lights in his quarters were on. He groaned. He was fairly sure that he was going to loose his dinner.

He sat up and swore. What dinner? He felt his stomach roll over and he swallowed to keep from throwing up. "Oh Kah'less! DINNER!" He smacked his palm into his forehead and groaned. In his effort to get himself numb he forgot about the fact he had a growing son. "Alexander?" He croaked hoarsely. A sudden flash hit him. Had he been singing earlier? He groaned yet again.

"Good morning Father!" An extremely chipper voice piped up. Each word was a detonation in his skull!

He groaned. "Hello, Alexander. What time is it?" His eyes felt caked and gritty. He slowly opened them and realized he was on the couch. The couch?

"It's eight thirty. Shouldn't you be on the bridge? Or at least getting ready to go to the bridge." Alexander said.

"I am on leave." His mouth tasted like someone had died in it. He moaned like a dieing elephant and raised himself up to look around. Alexander was over at the replicator getting breakfast.

"You told me you wouldn't be on leave for another month."

"Counselor Troi seems to think I am under to much pressure. I'm off for the next week." He rasped, his throat sore. The smell of sausages assailed his nostrils, and his stomach lurched again. He clenched his teeth and swallowed. "Alexander, what was I doing when you came home from school?" He cringed at the thought of the coming answer. With a sudden jolt he recollected that his drinking binge had started around ten yesterday morning.

"You were asleep on the couch. I figured you must have worked all the night before so I didn't wake you. I did turn off the opera, though. I don't know how you can listen to that!" Alexander grimaced and sat down at the table.

Worf got to his feet and lumbered over to the replicator. "Water." He ordered.

"What temperature?" The computer asked.

"What do I care, just make it lukewarm." He grumbled.

"Define lukewarm."

"Twenty degrees, you damn machine!" A tall glass materialized instantly.

"Why do I have the feeling you aren't in a good mood?" Alexander asked warily.

He sat opposite his son, and tried not to look at Alexander's breakfast. He ignored his son's statement. "I am sorry I wasn't awake for you last night. I was incredibly irresponsible. I apologize."

"Don't worry about it." Alexander artfully shoveled his meal around his plate.

Worf's head pounded. He took a sip of his water, crossed his arms on the table, and put his head down. "Son, don't ever drink Romulan Ale."

Alexander shrugged. "Yes, Father. Whatever. What are you doing today?"

"I want to die, very slowly. And when I'm dead, I have to go see Troi, who will proceed to make me feel even worse." He raised his head. "My other piece of advice to you is to never involve yourself with women. Go become a vulcan monk. It's the only way you'll be safe."

"Safe from what?" The little klingon looked at him.

"From the endless, continual nagging. It never stops." He took another sip of his water. His stomach wanted to reject it, but he managed to keep it down. "Computer, what time is my appointment with counselor Troi?"

" O-Eight Forty-five."

"What time is it now?"

"O-eight forty."

"NO!" Worf shrieked. He bounded up, causing his stomach to flip over and his vision to swim alarmingly. He managed to get to the washroom. Stripping quickly, the suffering klingon hopped into the shower. The steaming hot water helped him feel a little better, and he was out in an all time record. "Damn that woman for making such an early appointment!" He grumbled as he dried himself.

Worf looked in the mirror. He didn't look good. He was pale, wan, and his skin almost looked like wax. Also, there was a slight greenish cast to his color. He went into his bedroom and replicated a uniform. He WOULD wear his uniform.

His hair still wet, he grunted 'Bye' to Alexander, and left his quarters. He hated being soggy, and as he traveled to the turbolift, he couldn't help but wonder why the Enterprise had such bright lights in the corridors. It made things very uncomfortable for the hungover who might be transversing them.

He arrived at Troi's about four minutes late. As he touched the chime Worf mumbled "I hate being late."

The door slide open and Deanna Troi beckoned him in. She was wearing one of her turquoise dresses. "Come, and have a seat. You're late." She said pleasantly.

He sat in a green chair, his elbows on his knees. It was awfully bright in here, and he looked at the floor in a effort to shade his eyes. "I know. I apologize."

Deanna sat opposite him. "That is very unusual for you, Worf."

"I did not know the time of our appointment until this morning."

"Ah. How odd. I sent a reminder to your terminal yesterday afternoon." She smiled.

"I have not had the opportunity to turn it on for a few days. 'I've been remiss in my duties." He answered curtly. Did she have to rub it in? And did she have to talk so loud? He winced slightly.

"Why, Worf, are you unwell? You look a little pale." She gazed at him.

He couldn't detect any sarcasm in her tone. "I am fine, counselor. Thank you for your concern."

"But I do sense you are very uncomfortable. You've been in my office enough not to be intimidated by it. What's bothering you, Worf." She asked, concerned.

"Let me think? Could it be that you took me off active duty. If this were a Klingon ship, my dishonor would be great." He replied acidly.

"This isn't a Klingon ship, and you need the rest. What did you do last night?"

"I went to sleep."

Troi's eyes narrowed. "That is absolutely amazing, as you don't look like you slept at all. You look decidedly hung over."

Worf scowled fiercely. "I am on leave. I can do anything I damn well please. Remember?" He snarled mockingly.

"I didn't take you off duty so you could go and get drunk on Warnog."

"It was Romulan ale." He muttered.

Her face went slightly sympathetic. "You must feel sick. Two tumblers puts me on the floor. How much did you have."

He shrugged. "Yesterday my decanter was half full. Now it's empty."

Deanna looked sick. "Your poor liver."

He nodded. "I am paying for it."

"I have never seen you like this before. I didn't even think that you drank the real stuff.

"I try to avoid it. I don't like feeling like this, and when you are drunk, you can't hear someone creep up behind you with a phaser. But you didn't ask my here to discuss the effects of Romulan alcohol on the body. I am pretty positive that my drinking habits, or lack of them aren't the reason you suspended me. Why did you do it, Deanna?" He questioned.

She crossed her legs, leaned back and crossed her arms around his chest. "Because you are in no condition to perform your job effectively."

"That's absolute garbage. The way you say condition it sounds as if I'm pregnant!" He scoffed.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night."

Troi sighed. "You know that doesn't count. Don't treat me a five year old, Worf."

"Three, four days ago."

"That isn't enough. When was the last time you ate properly?" She asked.

A vision of Alexander's sausages rolled into his mind and his stomach roiled. "The day before yesterday. I don't really see what you are getting at."

"I told you two weeks ago on SoS not to get too emotionally involved in this. I had a little chat with your son the other day. He said all you do is go over medical logs, go through away team logs, and talk to the home world. In short, all you do with your time is work on the SoS investigation." Deanna leaned forward.

"That is my job, Counselor. I am the head of security. I investigate things." He bit out each word.

"Correction, Mr. Worf. You are in charge of onboard security, not planetary security." She rebuked crisply.

He looked around the aqua room. "And you think that just because you take me off of active duty you are going to stop my investigation?"

She snorted. "I would have to put you in an straight jacket to keep you from your investigation. I know how important it is to you."

"At least you realize that much."

"What is MaH'delyna to you, Worf?" Deanna asked suddenly.

It was a question he had no ability to answer. "How the hell do I know? One minute I want to keep her safe, and the next minute I think I'm going to strangle her. She is the most perplexing person I have ever had the misfortune to meet."

"I understand. What happened in her quarters the other night? Whatever it was has you extremely upset and I think it is the root of your present problem." The counselor got up and walked over to the replicator. "Do you want anything?"

He shook his head. "No, thank you. So you want to know what happened. I don't know. It happened all so suddenly."

"Hot chocolate." Deanna said to the replicator. She picked up the glass and walked back and sat opposite Worf. "Start at the beginning."

"She invited me over for dinner. I went, we ate. After we ate, we sat on the couch and we were just talking and- " He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips. His head pounded unmercifully. "Oh, I don't know."

"What did you do?" She prompted.

"I growled at her." He sighed into his hands.

"Well, so you got angry. What else happened?"

"No, I wasn't angry. I, "He placed special emphasis on the word. "growled at her. You know," He waved his hand in the air.

"Oh. So?"

"She didn't take it all that well. She went into her memories and thought I was one of her attackers. She begged me not to rape her anymore." His normally powerful voice dwindled into a whisper.

Deanna leaned over and placed her hand on his. Her eyes softened with concern. "Oh Worf, I am sorry. You can't feel guilty about that. Sometimes, certain sounds, or smells or sights can jog one's memory, as I told you the other day. In MaH'delyna's case, it got jogged pretty hard. You can't blame yourself for that."

"I shouldn't have been having those sort of thoughts about a woman who is newly widowed!" He exploded.

"Physical attraction isn't something we have a whole lot of control of." Troi said, looking him into the eye.

"Yes, but we can control our actions!"

"What did you do afterwards?"

Worf looked up. "I waited until she was fine and I left. What do you think I did?"

"Well, then you did the right thing. Maybe leaving was a little abrupt; however, you can't go wrong with it. But I will repeat myself. You can't feel guilty for what happened. It wasn't your fault." She said.

"I feel like it was."

"But it wasn't"

He fixed his beady eyes on her. "Let's not get into that. Will you please put me back on duty?"

She smiled benignly. "Nope. You are on stress leave. I haven't changed my reasons for that. You are incredibly over-tired, and I don't think that you should be working. Worf, It is only a week. Enjoy yourself. Spend some time in the holodeck. Spend some time with your son. He could use a moment of your time."

"A week. I don't like it! I don't like it at all. They need me on the bridge."

"No they don't. Not the way you are. You're running yourself into the ground."

"That is not true!"

"Worf! Listen to yourself, then think about this for a minute. I want you to get this investigation out of your system. You have six days in which you have an unlimited amount of time to work on it. Use the time, and stop complaining." She articulated exasperatedly.

He felt like an idiot for not having seen it earlier. "I-"

"Uh-huh! I see you understand. But Worf, I want you to look after yourself. You can't abuse this. I don't want you to burn yourself out. You can only do so much." Troi told him.

"Counselor, I have to find the answers. There is so much, and I sense a major conspiracy here. If what MaH'delyna says is true, and Ke'thex is an impostor, it will cause a major imbalance within the empire. Ke'thex's house is very small, but they are the custodians of all Dylithium crystal mines in the Empire." He explained urgently.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that Ke'thex, A) controls all of the battle fleet's power and B) he is incredibly wealthy, and wealth carries a weight equal to that of a Romulan warbird. If he is an impostor, he is in a position to jeopardize the security of the empire in ways that I can't begin to understand. Ke'thex has a position on the high council, he has power, he has money, he has the energy source of the fleet. If he was an enemy of the state, and he chooses to use the power he has to aid an invasion, the Empire could topple."

"Then you had better get to work, but first, go get a hypo from Beverly, You can't do any work when you are hungover. And Worf, don't go and get drunk again!" She smiled and got up.

He rose as well and walked toward the door." Thank you Counselor."

"Yes well, Don't forget, It's poker night on friday, and I want to win back those credits you stole from me." She grinned ruefully. "It's that poker face of yours."

He walked out the door and said to her, "You don't have a chance!"


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

Worf spent the rest of the day in his quarters, working on things unrelated from to the SoS investigation. A part of him hated wasting the time, but deep down he knew that he had to distance himself from the case. Troi was right. He was getting too emotionally involved. When he got home he had a long, hot shower, and started tiding up his quarters. He really had let his housework go, and he was rather disappointed with himself. He hated mess. Worf was also annoyed at Alexander's messy room, and all of the mess of Alexander's that he was finding all over the place. Why couldn't his son have received Worf's neatness gene? It would make their day to day living so much smoother.

He decided to be nice, and clean Alexander's room. He needed something to do, might as well. After that, Worf worked on some poetry, for Kurn, of course. He had a few interesting ideas. He paced his quarters dictating to the computer, wondering what it must have been like in the old days of pen and paper.

Around fifteen hundred hours Worf sat down with a cup of coffee, to read one of the scrolls he had sent to him from the homeworld a few months ago. They were the histories of Kahless. The scrolls were very brittle, written on _Targ_ skin and in a purplish ink, presumably _Targ_ blood. They told the original stories of Kahless, and were composed as a lyrical ballad in a dialect of old klingon. The dialect was one of the standard languages, and Worf had only minor difficulties understanding what it said. He was interested in what the ancient stories had to say. Worf believed that in the understanding of the past, one could better understand the future, and as it was the stories of Kahless that lead to the present Klingon system of honor, he believed them especially important.

He was jilted out of his reading when he heard his door chime. He took a sip of his coffee and said "Come." He hoped that it wasn't one of his superior officers as he wasn't in uniform.

The door slid open and MaH'delyna stood there. She was wearing flowing green pants, something that he had never seen before, a filmy green tunic that was cinched in by a chain link belt which wrapped around her waist several times, and her hair was in a braid which reached almost as far down as her knees. He could tell that she was carrying something behind her back. "Am I disturbing you" She asked hesitantly.

He rose. "No, not at all. Have a seat. Can I get you anything?"

MaH'delyna shook her head. "You asked me once a few weeks ago if I could remember what any of the men who attacked me looked like." She paused as she sat. "I remembered last night." She thrust a small booklet at him and crossed her hands on her knees, and looked at the floor.

He opened the sketch book and examined the first page. It was an incredibly real looking drawing of a Klingon officer, his face twisted and leering. He wasn't anyone Worf recognized, but Worf could see a captains rank insignia on the man's uniform. The succeeding six pages were also pictures of junior officers. Different poses, and different people. One looked familiar to Worf, but he couldn't place a name to the face.

The last three bothered Worf. One was of a prominent member of the high council, Lersash. Lersash was one of Kurn's, and thereby his, allies on the council. The picture was more of a scene, showing Lersash in the square whipping or beating someone. The profile was very exact. In the bottom of the page was a detail of Lersash's eyes, depicting a crescent shaped scar that one could only see when extremely close up to Lersash, which ran along the corner of Lersash's left eye. Worf knew that Lersash was an extremely vain man, who once was born with a horrible disfigurement on his face and had it surgically removed, hence the scar. Worf also knew that Lersash must have been extremely close to MaH'delyna for her to have seen it.

One was a picture of Ke'thex. Worf could tell who it was because he had seen enough pictures of the man to recognize him. The expression on the klingon's face was one that almost put a sliver of fear in Worf. The eyes were bulging and there was an evil rictus grin on the face. He stared at the picture. The fear of the person who had drawn it reached into Worf. He could tell the artist was terrified of the subject.

The last drawing showed a man in a Starfleet admiral's uniform. The man looked incredibly like William Riker; however, Worf could tell that the man was not a relative. The beard, and the eyes were the same, but facial and body shape were different. The man was depicted in a lunging motion, almost coming out of the picture. The figure was reaching for something, or someone, Worf thought to himself. The admiral had a look of anticipation on his face that made Worf feel sick.

He looked up. "Are you sure that these are the men who attacked you? Are you positive?"

"Only the klingon's raped me. The human had-" MaH'delyna paused, "He had other tastes." She shivered.

Worf pointed to the Admiral. "Are you certain this man was wearing this uniform?"

She nodded. "Worf, I am positive. I am absolutely convinced that that is what he was wearing. He looks so much like the man you rescued me with."

He closed his eyes and inhaled. He exhaled and breathed again. If the Federation was involved in this, things just became so incredibly sticky, he didn't even want to consider the ramifications. Worf opened his eyes and put his hands on her shoulders, and looked directly into her shining brown eyes. They were slightly dilated with fear, but he instinctively knew that it was not fear of him. "MaH'delyna, I need you to tell me one more time. Are you totally, irrefutably, completely, convinced this man was in this uniform?"

"I am positive beyond a shadow of a doubt. I know he wore the uniform. I know it." She sagged into his arms.

He pulled her close to him and put his arms around her as she began to tremble. "It's ok, it's ok. "He whispered. "I believe you."

"I can't stop seeing him in my mind. I can't get away from any of them. They haunt my dreams. I close my eyes and it happens all over again." She gasped into his deep blue tunic.

"We have to go and talk to the Captain. He is going to have many questions. I know who one of those men is and Picard might know who the Admiral is, he knows most of the Admirals in the starfleet." He said gently.

"The human is an admiral? Oh, Kah'less, what am I going to do?" She voiced desperately. "I won't be safe, here. They will find me again!"

"You are safe on the Enterprise. I won't let anyone remove you from my custody, and I am under the Aegis of Picard. He has power, contacts in the upper echelons of the admiralty." He said comfortingly. "He won't let anything happen to you."

"I am so afraid of them. I know they are going to hurt me again."

He pushed her away, to look into her eyes. "You have to believe me, that I won't let anyone hurt you. I give you my word of honor, on my honor as a starfleet officer and as a klingon warrior." He bored into her eyes. "Do you understand what I am saying to you?"

She nodded, and with her sleeve, dried her eyes. "I understand." Her eyes returned his stare, and they sat looking at each other.

Alexander picked this auspicious moment to breeze into their quarters. "Father, I'm home."

Worf closed his eyes, ground his teeth, and rolled his eyes under his lids. Children had the most unfortunate timing. "Alexander."

Alexander looked at MaH'delyna. "Hi, Miss MaH'delyna!"

Worf opened his eyes and watched as the klingon woman looked at his son. Her expression had changed from one of fear and panic to the soft benevolence of a teacher. He could; however, feel her hand tighten on his arm. She may not show it the same way, but she was just as uncomfortable by his son's arrival has he was. Women were just better at schooling their expressions than men. "Hello, Alexander. How was your day?"

"It was fine, thank you. Why are you here? I didn't do anything wrong!" He looked perplexed.

"I just came to see your father." She rose. "I should go."

Worf picked up the sketch book. "You aren't going anywhere without me. We are going to see the Captain, Alexander. I will be back soon." He rose.

"Worf, I don't know if this is the best time. I am," She paused, "Unwell."

He gently took her arm and propelled her toward the door. "Don't try that on me. Time is of the essence right now."

She allowed herself to be moved through the corridor. "I know. I just- "She left it hanging.

They entered the turbolift. "Bridge." Worf ordered. He looked at her, letting his eyes wander down the length of her. The almost shapeless clothing suited her. The flowingness of the fabric was alluring. It concealed, and yet- Worf snapped his mind back to the business at hand. "Captain Picard is not going to eat you alive, you know."

Her lips slid into a half smile. "I know. I haven't seen him since I came on board the Enterprise. I am afraid to trust him." She fidgeted nervously.

The doors slid open to the bridge, and he walked purposefully down the ramp, MaH'delyna in tow. Riker got up from the command chair and walked over. "Uh, Worf, you are off duty. You don't have to be on the bridge."

Worf was about to open his mouth when he heard MaH'delyna's terrified gasp. "You!" Out of the corner of his eye, Worf saw Data pivot in his chair.

Riker looked confused. "Excuse me? I don't think that we have met. Commander William Riker." Riker extended his hand.

She stared at Will's hand as if it were a snake. Worf turned to her and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "MaH'delyna, it isn't him. You told me so yourself."

She shook her head and blinked. "Yes, your right." She looked at Riker, "I am sorry, you remind me of someone I, "She choked, "Someone I know." She tentatively put her hand in his, "I am MaH'delyna."

Worf could feel some of the tension drain out of her. "Commander, is the Captain in his ready room?"

Riker was staring almost transfixed at MaH'delyna. He nodded. "Go right in." He mumbled to Worf. To MaH'delyna he smiled, and raised her hand to his lips in a gesture of long dead gallantry. "I am enchanted."

"You might want to be there as well, Commander, this might be of some interest to you." Worf suggested. He suddenly realized that he didn't like the way MaH'delyna blushed under Riker's flattery. She never blushed for Worf!

Riker lingered a moment over MaH'delyna's hand before releasing it . "After you then. Mr. Data, you have the bridge."

Worf rang the chime, and with an assent from the Captain, he entered the room. Picard was behind his desk reading a book, probably Shakespeare. "Captain, I have some information of a delicate and highly sensitive nature."

"Mr. Worf, I thought that you were on leave." Picard raised his eyebrows.

"I am, but I cannot ignore the importance of the facts which have been presented to me. You will understand in a second."

Picard grunted. "Have a seat."

Riker and MaH'delyna sat, but Worf remained standing. "MaH'delyna has been able to make a drawing of her attackers." He dropped the sketch book on the Captain's desk, and put his arms behind his back.

The Captain picked up the book and flipped through it. His face showed his displeasure. After a moment his eyes widened, and he looked at MaH'delyna, who sat forward, her arms around her waist. " Number one, you had better take a look at this."

Worf passed the book to Riker. Riker looked at each picture. The silence in the room roared in Worf's ears. He looked at MaH'delyna, and wondered what she was thinking, if she knew what the picture of the man in the admiral's uniform meant.

"He looks just like me!" Riker gasped.

"I know, but the resemblance isn't quite the same in real life." said Picard. "Computer, display a current photo of Retired Admiral Fernando de Silva Y Alverez." After a moment, he turned the screen around. "MaH'delyna, is this the man?"

She got up and slowly walked over to Picard's desk. She looked at the picture for a long moment. "Yes, Captain Picard. Yes it is."

Worf took a look at the display. The man looked sort of like Riker, but not as much as the sketch. This man's skin was more tanned, or hispanic. His hair was darker, and he appeared to be a little shorter. "Who is he, Captain?" He asked.

"Admiral de Silva is, or was in charge of supply for Starfleet. He retired about thirty-five years ago to teach at the academy. He was there while I was, but according to this, he left the same year I did and entered the diplomatic corps. It appears he retired from that about three years ago." Picard summed up what was on the screen.

"Retired from starfleet thirty years ago? How old is he?" Riker asked.

"Ninety-eight." Picard replied " Though he protests he is a full blood human, there are those in Starfleet who have their doubts. He has never looked a day over forty five in any of the pictures I've seen of him. When I was in the academy, they said he was the vainest man to fly a desk in Starfleet."

MaH'delyna looked up. "Fly a desk? I don't understand?"

"It means he has never been in charge of anything bigger than a shuttle craft. It is an old human expression." Worf supplied. "Captain, how does he manage to look the way he does?"

The captain shrugged. "I wouldn't know. Ask Beverly. What I wonder is what was his involvement in all of this. Do we know who any of the others in this book are?" He picked up the sketch pad.

"Computer, display a recent view of the Klingon High Councilor Lersash." Worf said. The picture changed.

MaH'delyna gasped and shut her eyes. "That is him, Worf. Oh, on my life, that's the Klingon who.." She didn't continue, her voice dwindling to a whisper.

Worf touched her shoulder lightly. "That is Lersash. He is a very powerful member of the Klingon high council. He isn't in charge of any of the ministries, but his word holds much sway with the older members of the high council." Worf looked up. "Computer, Display Klingon High Counselor Keth'ex. This is the last man in the book. He holds another powerful position in the empire as he has custodianship of all Dylithuim mines in the empire. "He felt MaH'delyna go and sit again. Her face was in her hands. She looked small and pathetic. "He has mostly been an absentee member of the high council until recently, staying on his planet of Grell. Keth'ex is also MaH'delyna's father." He finished.

Riker whirled around. "What? You are implicating your own father in the attack of SoS?"

"Mr. Worf, how long have you known about this?" Picard asked, his brows drawing together across his forehead.

"I have known of MaH'delyna's parentage for a week. I did not know about Keth'ex until this morning." He said.

"He isn't my father." MaH'delyna raised her head.

Picard ignored her. "You should have told me that our guest had a family, Worf. If Keth'ex knows his daughter is alive he could accuse the Federation of holding her a hostage."

MaH'delyna stood up and walked over to Picard's desk. She laid her hands flat on the top and fixed her eyes on Picard. "I told you, he isn't my father. My father would not have murdered my son in front of me!" She enunciated every word clearly, a definite bite to her tone.

Worf was surprised. It was the first amount of backbone he had seen in her. "I would tend to agree, Captain. I didn't tell you of MaH'delyna's parentage because I didn't want a log entry made of it. If Keth'ex is an impostor, and he knows there is someone who can identify him, with the amount of power he holds, he won't stop until she's dead."

Picard stood up and looked at MaH'delyna. "Are you absolutely sure? Deep down, are you wholly convinced that this man is not your father?"

"Yes, Captain. I am."

They sized each other up for a very long moment. Picard abruptly turned to his replicator and walked over to it. "Alright. I believe you. Mr. Worf, Number one, I want options and I want them now." He turned to the machine. "Tea, earl gray, hot." He sat back at his desk.

"Well, we have to find out how these men are connected." Riker stated.

"Agreed. Mr. Worf, what else do you know?" Picard asked.

"Not enough, Sir. All I know is that this is just the tip of the iceberg. There is much more to this than meets the eye. I intend to contact Gowron later, and I am due a report from Kurn this evening, as well." A thought suddenly dawned on him. "Computer, is there any record of Keth'ex, Lersash, and Admiral de Silva having been in the same place?"

"During the trade negotiations on earth between the klingon empire, the federation, and vulcan, in 2355."

MaH'delyna froze. "I remember that. I was there."

"Yes, I know." Worf said.

"MaH'delyna, do you remember anything else that might be helpful?" Picard asked.

"No, but then I was very young. I remember my father taking me to England to see your castles, and things like that, but I was never involved with the talks. I was always told to stay with, "She stopped and turned. Her eyes flicked left, to the corner of her gaze, and a look of enlightenment spread across her face. " I was always told to stay with General Tyng, my father's aide. If he is still alive, he would know everything about those negotiations. Tyng was my father's best friend, at least while I was around." She looked back at Worf. "And I don't remember him being on SoS. If you find him, you will find the answers."


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Worf was unsure of what to do next. He had sent a message out to Gowron, but had been told that Gowron would not be available for at least three hours. Kurn was likewise busy. Alexander had long since gone to bed, and so he decided to go down to Ten-Forward and see what was happening. He was feeling masochistic, maybe he would challenge Data to a game of chess.

He sauntered out of his quarters and went to the lounge. It was mostly empty, as it was twenty-three hundred hours. He stopped by the bar and ordered a synthehol clamato juice, a drink that he often enjoyed, then walked over to his favorite table, by the big windows, and sat down. He picked up the PADD he had brought with him, and took a look at Alexander's current events report for his social studies class. It was all about the recent Klingon civil war. Worf had given Alexander the idea for the report because the Enterprise had played an integral role in many of the important battles. He nursed his clamato juice and read the report to himself. He noted that Alexander had a talent for narrative detailing. His report read very well. Worf was extremely proud of his son.

Alexander would make a very good officer one day, if he ever learned to obey orders, Worf added silently to himself. He wanted to see his son follow in his footsteps, yet he knew that he couldn't push Alexander into the academy. K'Ehlyr had made it very clear to Worf she wanted their son to choose his own path, and not be a warrior automon.

K'Ehlyr. How different she was from MaH'delyna. K'Ehlyr was so full of life and energy, she would have never let anyone tell her what to do. She played a cunning game by her own set of rules, and she paid for it. She paid for it with her life.

MaH'delyna always seemed defeated, and alone. It gnawed at him, because the feeling was familiar. He remembered what it was like after Khitomer. He barely spoke any English, he didn't understand what was going on. Worf had been alone until the Roshenko's had taken him in. He would always cherish them for the way they treated him, like a son from the very beginning. But MaH'delyna had no one. There was nobody for her to lean on, for her to reach out to. Under normal klingon philosophy, a klingon warrior learned he had only himself to count on, and never needed anyone else, but Worf had been around humans long enough to realize that philosophy was flawed. Worf knew he could depend on his coworkers, not only as officers, but as friends as well. A support group.

And the thing was, what if you had no self to turn to? MaH'delyna didn't seem to believe in herself. She didn't appear to want to be alive, even though Worf had begun to see a change in that. He wondered what sort of thing could destroy someone's self image like that. To have no pride, no feeling of self worth. It wasn't right. No person should have power over another in that way.

He wanted to help her, if only he knew more about her. Perhaps if he could see things through her eyes he could understand her better, but Worf didn't know how he could do that, no person could ever live in another man's shoes. He could only extrapolate from his own experience and try to be sympathetic.

The information about her father perplexed and angered him. He wondered just what had happened on SoS to make her realize that her father was an impostor. It had been eleven or twelve years, after all. Worf speculated on how he would receive his father, if Mohg was to return from the dead. The first thing to come into his mind was that he would receive his father without question. A second later he changed that thought. He hadn't entirely accepted Kahless without question, although he had wanted to believe in Kahless' return, so much.

Had MaH'delyna not wanted her father to return from the dead? Had she been afraid Keth'ex would have made her leave her mate and family? He discounted that. A female's husband took precedence over her father. Had Toloth wished her to remain on SoS, under klingon law, there wouldn't have been a whole lot Keth'ex could have done. What had Keth'ex said? What hadn't he known? It must have been something very small, maybe he didn't use a gesture that the real Keth'ex had used. But that seemed to picky. It had to be something even less common. A pet name! If the real Keth'ex had always called MaH'delyna by the same pet name, and the impostor hadn't, that might have alerted her. Worf didn't think it could have been something as simple as smell, because there would be many reasons for Keth'ex not to smell as she had remembered. Memories about those sort of things often changed.

He finished his clamato juice, put the PADD down, and looked out at the stars. He wondered about this man, general Tyng. Who was he? Was he still alive? If the impostor was smart he would have eliminated Tyng when he assumed Keth'ex's identity. Unless General Tyng was in on the plot, but then wouldn't he have been on SoS with Keth'ex? There were so many questions and not enough time.

Worf knew he was going to have a very difficult time discussing this with his brother. Lersash was Kurn's ally, and a powerful one at that. Worf was curious to know if that alliance might work to his advantage? Worf scoffed at that. Better not to involve Lersash directly. He didn't want any reprisals against MaH'delyna. She was their only witness. Until they found better evidence, it was her word against theirs. Worf didn't like those odds.

Boisterous commotion at the entrance to the bar caught Worf's attention. It looked like a couple of Miners the Enterprise had picked up on Danilla were having an argument. The shouting was escalating and he knew that punches would be thrown at any moment. Worf got up, drew himself to his full height and walked over to the group. He crossed his arms and said "Is there a problem here, gentlemen?"

A craggy face peered up at him. "Go back to your drinking, klingon. Your smell is souring the air."

Worf inhaled. That was one particular insult that he really hated. He looked at the miner. "I would suggest that you all go back to your quarters, before I have to call security." He snarled.

"Oh ya? Who died and made you in charge." The miner jutted his chin pugnasiously.

Worf wasn't in uniform, and he knew he could really handle this anyway he wanted. It was his duty to call security, but he was itching to knock this guy's block off. "I am Worf, and Tasha Yar died and put me in charge." He looked down his nose at the weasel-like human.

One of the other miners leaned over to the one in front of Worf. "Hey, Gorwallis, he's THE Worf. Head of security! Shut yer trap an' mebee 'e won't thrash ya." the second man said, his eyes darting between Worf and the miner.

"Worf, huh? 'e ain't lookin' s'tough if'n y'ask me!." The miner threw a very clumsy punch, and burly klingon grabbed the miner's fist mid punch.

With his other hand Worf tapped his starfleet insignia. "Lt. Worf to Security. Get a team to Ten-forward on the double." He clenched his hand around the other man's, pulling the man's fingers out of the fist.

Gorwallis gasped, and tried to retract his hand. After a moment, Worf let him go. The miner stared at his twisted, bloodless fingers. "I reckon I now be knowin' why people say not to mess with klingons. Let's us not be a'keeping the big man 'ere away from the hooch I'ma gunna buy im." The miner looked at the waitress who had approached fight. "Get Worfie 'ere a whisky on me! Let's go boys. I got us some eight week old moonshine down in me pack." The scruffy miners shuffled out of bar.

"Worf to security team, cancel that order." There was an assent and Worf walked over to the bar. The waitress looked thankfully at him. "Thanks Leuitennant. I wasn't to sure what to do."

"That is my job." He half smiled. "Head of security by day, bouncer by night."

She laughed, a small, tinkling noise which rather irritated Worf. "Well, have a whiskey on the miners and a clamato on the house!"

Worf took the drink. "Thank you." He walked over and sat back at his table. He marveled at the miner. He had to be a little amazed at the man's courage, not many men would pick a fight with a Klingon. He was also a little amazed at the man's stupidity. Not many men would insult a klingon into battle. Angry klingon's had a way of pulverizing stupid humans, and he was in very good shape.

He smiled to himself. He always liked to see the dawn of realization in a man's eyes when he realized perhaps Worf was a hard target. It made fighting them so much more enjoyable. He chided himself. Now he sounded like a bully, and bullies were something he hated. He had been bullied enough as a child, being the only klingon child on all of Galt. He had been beaten and picked on until he learned to fight back. It was all in the uppercut.

"You are brooding, Mr. Worf."

He looked up. It was MaH'delyna. "Not really, have a seat. It is always better to brood with someone else!" She looked the same as she had earlier.

She sat opposite him. "My thoughts exactly."

"It is very late, what has you up and about at this hour?" He asked. He knew it was around midnight.

"I don't sleep. I usually paint most of the night, but tonight, I was running low on inspiration." She smiled.

"All night? Does Counselor Troi know?" He joked.

"No, why?" She was perplexed.

"Because, if she and Doctor Crusher knew there was someone else who was up all night, maybe they would get off my back and get onto yours." He joked.

"They are a very persuasive pair, aren't they. I had noticed that their ability to coerce is very strong. They, "She paused, "No, to say that they mean well wouldn't fit, because, of course they mean well. I think they do it because they care. I have a great deal of respect for both of them." She smiled. "But I wouldn't want them on my back for all the dylithium in the entire klingon battle fleet."

Worf laughed even though he knew that heads would be turning. He didn't laugh all that often. She joined in, and they sat there chortling at one another. It made much of the tension go away. "I think that about sums it up." He gasped, trying to stop laughing.

"You should stand up to them, Worf. They are only two tiny little females." She said slyly, her eyes shrewd.

"Two tiny females who outrank me! I am powerless against them! And I think if I stand up to them, the continual picking would only get worse. Like those crabs on Qronos that eat _qagh_ worms. As soon as I stick my neck out, one of them has a pincer ready to cut my head off!" He looked at her, indignant. "And I don't think I would make a very good security officer without a head!"

"No, I don't think you would. You seem relatively intelligent to me, would be a waste to see you end up like a _qagh_ worm." She laughed.

He rolled his eyes. "Oh good. Relatively intelligent, huh? I will remember that, next time you want something."

"Don't you wish!"

He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Oh?"

"On that note, I do believe that it is time to change the subject." MaH'delyna coughed nervously.

He took a sip of his clamato juice and looked at her over the rim. "But things were just getting interesting. Come with me back to my quarters, we could make beautiful music together." He joked playfully, secretly wishing she'd take him up on the offer.

"Oh?"

"Yes, I have a wonderful collection of intergalactic opera. Would you like to come and sing some with me?" He continued, trying to keep the smile off his face.

She looked considering, but then she said gravely, "Oh, but I can't. Alexander would be asleep. I wouldn't want to wake him up."

"He hates klingon opera. It would be fun!"

"No, Mr. Worf. No!" She laughed, and took a sip of her drink.

"Can't blame a klingon for trying." He murmured morosely. He felt better than he had in weeks. It was quite amazing, and MaH'delyna was starting to come out of her shell.

"Well, perhaps you can." She said mockingly.

"By Kahless, could it be you are almost as bad as Deanna and Beverly? Someone save me!" He moaned piteously.

She pursed her lips and tapped them with her finger before shrugging. "It's a female thing, I guess. We nag."

"And to think I once told Commander Riker that klingon women didn't nag. Aren't you supposed to be subservient?" He asked.

"No. That was a lie spread by a man who was secretly being bullied at home." She smiled sweetly.

He rolled his eyes again. "You can say that again. My brother Kurn took the oath last year, and now his mate Bujal has whipped him into shape. He doesn't even breath without her permission, and if he hasn't been behaving the way she likes, she doesn't always give it." He smirked.

MaH'delyna put her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her palms. "How many brothers do you have?"

"Two. One natural and one foster. We are all very different." He said. "Kurn is a very good warrior. He will bring our house much glory."

She looked at the table. "Honor and glory, is that all you care about?"

Worf blinked, wondering where her questions were going. "No, I care about many other things. Alexander for example." He quipped, even though honor was not a laughing matter. "Why?"

"Ahh," The klingon woman shrugged. "I was just wondering. Toloth was always very concerned with them; however, honorable meant other things on SoS. One acquired honor by how well one's farm did, how many people it fed, and so on." She grinned slightly. "The number of children one had also affected one's honor."

"How so?"

"Simply, the more you had, the higher your standing in the community. Toloth was quite young, and he didn't have all that many. people certainly chided him for only having two wives, but when Karela died, and then he only had one-" MaH'delyna shook her head. "Other females were always pushing themselves at him, but he only wanted me. I was scorned because I was so infertile, whereas Karela was a baby machine."

"How many children did Toloth have?"

"Fourteen including my son. Would have been fifteen, but Karela died in childbirth and the baby with her. Toloth was his twenties when he bonded with Karela, and they had a child a year until she died. Toloth was only forty-three."

Worf was amazed, and before he could stop himself, he blurted, "Why wasn't it like that with you?" He was kicking himself before it was out of his mouth.

"Firstly, Toloth didn't think it healthy for me to start having children until I was sixteen, and Ze'Hestral was a sickly child, it just didn't happen again. He had been thinking of me having another one next year." MaH'delyna rubbed her fingers then looked at him. "Talking about them all, Toloth and Karela, and, of course, Ze'Hestral, it almost seems as if they never lived at all. I will miss them."

Worf thought it an opportune time to change the subject. "How did the SoSian's find you?"

" The people on SoS saw the crash and were at the site within a few moments. They took me away to a hospital pretty quickly. Toloth said my mother lived for a few hours after the crash, and that she left me some sort of legacy, but he never said any more. I guess I will never really know what that legacy was."

"Do you know why you survived?" He was curious.

"I was in the back, strapped in. The shuttle hit the planet nose down, the cockpit vaporized. I don't know why I was in the back. It would have made more sense for my brother to have been back there." She added.

"Was it difficult to adjust to life on SoS?" Worf asked.

"Yes, it was difficult, but not impossible, besides, I had no choice. I couldn't not accept the new culture. I certainly had no way back to the empire. It was really a sink or swim kind of thing, but, yes, it was difficult. I made some dreadful mistakes. Like a desire to eat meat, and every three months the people on SoS have a day in which no one speaks. It is in remembrance of all who have died on SoS. Everyone obviously has someone to mourn, and that is their only mourning ritual. Anyway, until I realized that no one was speaking to me, I went around blabbering at everyone." MaH'delyna laughed. "They really didn't know what to do with me."

"My foster parents had much the same problem. I was not a very easy child. I don't think that they really understood me, or all my customs. They were very patient, though." He supplied.

"It is amazing. We are both orphans, trying to hedge two different cultures. If only it was an easier thing to do." She said wistfully.

"May I ask you a question?" He asked. She nodded. "Why is it that you always wear green. Is it a mourning color?"

She blinked. "No. No, not at all. It is, or was Toloth's color. All of the _Qang's_ had an identifying color, and all of their families, and servants wore that color. Toloth was green." MaH'delyna supplied.

"So you wear it in remembrance of him?" Worf asked. He wasn't to sure if he wanted to know the answer.

"No. Actually, I hadn't really thought about it. I was put into Toloth's household when I arrived on SoS. I haven't worn any other color than green in over eleven years." She looked at him in wonderment. "The thought of wearing another color simply hadn't occurred to me." She blinked, and looked at him.

He didn't know what to say. "I am sorry if I offended you."

"No, you didn't. I am just amazed at myself. I hadn't realized just what a habit it was. I used to just hate green." She laughed to her self. "How plodding I've become."

"It hasn't been that long. I don't think you plodding at all. Take your time. I think it would be difficult to break a habit of eleven years." He said.

The waitress walked over and interrupted them. Worf realized that they were the last people in Ten Forward. "I am sorry to bother you, Lt. Worf, but it is closing time."

He looked at the young human woman. "All right. we will leave." He watched her go and looked at MaH'delyna. "I wonder what time it is?"

"It was about Zero-thirty when I arrived. I would say about one or so." She smiled.

He rose. "Would you like to come back to my quarters?" He asked.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea." She smiled, and they walked toward the door.

"Well then, I guess that I will see you later." He looked at her.

"Definitely. Good night, Worf. Thank you for a pleasant evening." She put her hand on his shoulder, and a moment later she was gone.

He watched her walk away, and shook his head. He would never understand her. She moved in a totally different world from him. One thing was for sure, though, he was going to try. It struck him how easily she manipulated his emotions. "I don't think she is as bad as Beverly and Deanna, I think she's worse." He mumbled ruefully to himself, and walked home.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

"Worf, what do you want?" Gowron snarled angrily.

Worf smirked. He knew it was very early on the homeworld, and that he must have awoken Gowron. "Are you alone?" He asked cautiously.

"Of course I am alone." Came the terse reply.

Worf raised one eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

Gowron sneered. "Out with it!"

"Does the name DiH'xang-MaH'delyna mean anything to you?" Worf queried.

Gowron's eyes widened and he became instantly alert. "Oh course I know the name. She was the daughter of my father's ally, Keth'ex. She died twelve years ago.."

Worf could tell Gowron was not telling the truth. "You know as well as I do she didn't die in that shuttle, and has been living on SoS for the last twelve years."

"All right. So I know ."Gowron's face twisted into an impenetrable, cold mask. "But she is dead now, so what does it matter. Why are you dredging up ancient history."

"She is the survivor, Gowron."

Gowron jerked abruptly. "You mean she is alive? Really alive? By the Gods, Kahless has answered my prayer." He put his elbow on his desk and sunk his head into his palm.

Worf was perplexed by Gowron's reaction, for the klingon leader had broken one of his own rules by making a religious reference to Kah'less with out putting a 'the real' in front of it. "I tell you as a professional curtesy. But it goes no further than us. Due to the circumstances of the attack on SoS, I am worried about her safety. She was the only witness to the slaughter."

"How is she?"

"What?"

"You heard me, Worf? How is she, DiH'xang?" Gowron lifted his head out of his hand to glare at Worf with troubled eyes.

"What do you want to know?" Worf asked.

"Well, you have never actually told me what happened on SoS. Dammit, Worf, I have to know! You talk of slaughters and massacres, but you never say what happened." Gowron rasped.

"How clinical do you want it?"

"Stop stringing me along! Just tell me how she survived when every one else died, and what happened to her?" The leader of the high Council's eyes burned into the screen.

"I fail to see why it's so important to you? You've been hounding me from the very beginning of this investigation, and I am beginning to feel MaH'delyna is the root of your anxiety. Why?" Worf settled into his chair. He was going to play this tit-for-tat because he knew this was the only way to get anything out of Gowron.

"DiH'xang, or MaH'delyna, if you are using her second name, was like my sister, Worf; and, more appropriately, once she reached the age of inclusion, she was to be my mate. That is why I CARE!" The klingon lead enunciated the last word by slamming his fist into the table.

Worf was taken aback. He didn't know what to say. "What?" He spluttered. "Were you actually promised?"

"No, not exactly, but my father told me she was the one I was to take the oath with. As I remember, the whole issue was settled between our fathers when she was born. I was about fifteen or sixteen or so at the time. She was being bred to be my mate, and I was to be hers. She was mine from her birth. That gives me the right to be concerned about her welfare. She is mine." Gowron justified, his tone filled with fury.

It was the longest explanation Worf had ever heard Gowron make about anything. "So why didn't you go get her when you found out she was on SoS?" He asked.

"I only found out about four years ago when the federation gave some documents about SoS to the empire. She was in one. With research, I found out that MaH'delyna had a mate, and a son, I chose not to press my suit. Legally, I didn't have a leg to stand on." Gowron cracked his knuckles. "After all, as betrothals at birth aren't legally recognized as a promising because the female has to agree to the oath taking of her own free will."

"I understand." Worf said, but he felt his hackles raise at the thought of MaH'delyna under Gowron's domination.

"I did wait for her to come back from the dead, and now she has. I have satisfied you, so now you, me. How is she Worf? And don't give me any of your Federation sidestep." Gowron asked.

"They mutilated her, beat her-," Worf paused, he thought it best to say the last quickly. "And they raped her."

Gowron's eyes widened, and they bulged further and further with each word. "I'll kill them." He hissed savagely. "Even if I have to chase them down to the very edge of the galaxy, I'll kill them."

Worf leaned forward, his eyes locking on to Gowron's. "Take a number and stand in line." He said in a dead voice.

Gowron waived Worf's declaration away. "We can kill them together. Who did it?"

"I have no solid proof to indicate anyone. MaH'delyna brought me some drawings, and I have identified them to people, but as I said, evidence of that nature won't hold up under Klingon law." Worf answered.

"Then I'll change the law!" Each word was bitten out. "Tell me who did it and I will destroy them!"

"You can't rewrite the Klingon legal system, Gowron.

"Well, then, we will work together. You from the Enterprise and I from here. Now, who?" Gowron replied.

"The implicated ringleaders so far have been Councilor Lersash, and Councilor Keth'ex." He didn't mention de Silva.

Gowron narrowed his eyes. "Keth'ex? She has implicated her own father? On what basis? I personally don't like Keth'ex, he acted dishonorably when he broke the alliance he had with my house three years ago, but that doesn't make him..." Gowron didn't finish.

"MaH'delyna says he is an impostor. She says he killed her son."

"Do you believe her?"

Worf looked at Gowron, "I believe her. All you have to do is look into her eyes and you know she is telling the truth."

"How is she, Worf?" Gowron asked again.

"Her will is broken and she mourns deeply. I believe she longs for death. She has told me that she wishes they had killed her."

Gowron muttered softly. "I can't imagine her like that. She always had so much life in her. She used to follow me around like a _Targling_ when she was a child. In the recordings I've seen of her on SoS, she always looked so happy and vivacious. I was always pleased she found her own peace."

Worf was silent for a moment. "She remembers you very fondly. We discussed you the other day; when I mentioned to her that I wanted to include you in my investigation. She seems to remember you as younger than you are. She said you hadn't reached the age of Inclusion yet, but seemed happy to hear that you were the leader of the high council. Said you always were ambitious."

Gowron half smiled. "Can I talk to her, Worf?"

"I have to ask her. I'm not her keeper. She makes her own decisions." Worf replied.

Gowron straightened up, all traces of softness or emotion gone from his face. "I trust that you will arrange it. I intend to tell Starfleet that I want the Enterprise here earlier for the NeH'sezv'ar Ceremonies. We can work better together. Do you have any other leads?"

Worf decided not to tell him about General Tyng. "No, I don't."

Gowron nodded. "All right. Gowron out." The screen flipped into the insignia of the empire.

Worf sat back. He was unsure what to think. So Gowron wanted to talk to MaH'delyna. That didn't surprise him all that much. He would act the same way if he was in a similar position. It bothered him that Gowron thought of MaH'delyna as Gowron's. Worf didn't think it would help Gowron all that much if he was too personally involved. Worf shook his head. That was rather like the pot calling the kettle black. When had he become such a hypocrite?

"Do as I say, not as I do." He said to the door of his office. He jumped suddenly as the door to his office chimed. "Come." He said.

The door slide open with a sibilant hiss. Riker entered the room and sat down. "Good evening, Worf. You coming to poker tomorrow?" He asked amiably.

"That had been my intention, Commander. I would hate to think those credits of Troi's were weighing her down." He said slyly. "I think she would grow taller if they weren't in her pockets."

"But won't they weigh you down if they are in yours?" Riker asked.

"I am a lot taller than Troi, and I have been told that I would be less threatening if I was shorter." Worf replied.

"Sound reasoning to me. So, how are things for those on leave?"

"I wish I was working. Troi is on my hit list right now." He muttered.

"How is the investigation, Worf?"

"It goes. It comes. I chase myself around in circles and all I find are dead ends. This would be much easier if there was a little flashing sign saying 'evidence this way'." He grumbled. It was the truth.

Riker stood up and passed Worf the PADD he was holding. "Well, this should give you something to chew on. It arrived from Starfleet a few moments ago."

Worf took the display device. "What is it?" He looked at his commanding officer.

"It's about General Tyng. He's alive." Riker supplied.

Worf knew there was more. "But?"

"The but is that he is on Ervlin II, and has been for the last eleven years, in an institution for the incurably insane." Riker's tone was grim.

"What? Why?" The sound of Worf's hopes falling to the floor was almost audible.

Riker strode toward the door. "I will let you read it, but it appears that he had a falling out with Keth'ex, and charged Keth'ex as being an impostor. There was no proof, and as a symbol of his power, Keth'ex had him imprisoned in the institution." Riker paused.

Worf nodded. "The ultimate dishonor. Tyng could rant all he wanted and no one would ever believe him."

"It would seem that way. Picard has arranged for his release, and for him to be brought to the Enterprise as soon as possible. It seems MaH'delyna was right. Congratulations, Worf." Riker smiled and walked out the door.

Worf smirked. Congratulations indeed. Perhaps he had found his flashing sign. The problem was that his evidence was that of a madman. Worf himself doubted Tyng was insane, and he was sure the charges of insanity were a fabrication on the part of Keth'ex. But without proof no one would believe Tyng.

But now he knew he could believe MaH'delyna. Worf now knew her to be truthful, and that was important to him. He rose from behind his desk. He had to go and tell her about Gowron, and about Tyng.

He knew it was around twenty-two hundred hours. He hoped that she was still up. He buzzed her door and entered at her voice.

He had never seen her like this, with paint all over her. She was working busily at her canvas, her profile to him. He could see several paint brushes hanging out of her mouth, clenched between her teeth. "MaH'delyna?" He murmured softly.

She didn't look at him. "Worf." The words were flat due to the brushes.

He walked over to look at her. There was an underlying tension in the room and he could see shimmering lines of moisture running down her cheeks. Things weren't quite right. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." He could barely hear the words.

He glanced at the painting. It was the courtyard, as Worf had scene it when they had first landed on SoS, only in this the perpetrators and the victims roamed. It was the most horrifying image he had ever seen.

"MaH'delyna, don't do this to yourself!"

Her hand began to shake, and the brushes tumbled from her mouth, striking the easel with a thundering staccato. She turned to him, her eyes wide and lost. "Why? When it's all that I have?" Her voice was loud and brittle.

He shook his head. "No, no it isn't. You have a life ahead of you! You are young!"

Her lips twisted bitterly. "What did you come here to say?"

"Tyng is alive, and we have arranged for him to be brought to the Enterprise as soon as possible. He was put in an asylum for accusing Keth'ex of being an impostor. You were right." He said gently.

She grunted, picked up her brushes, and went back to her painting. "I am glad that you have found your evidence." There was a sardonic note in her voice he'd never heard before.

"You should be pleased."

"Why? Nothing will change Worf! Nothing ever changes. The world is dead. Everyone is dead. I, too, am dead. You should have let me die. I live in hell." Her words were completely without emotion. She daubed some red paint onto a body in her picture.

"How long have you been working on this?" He asked.

"Three nights, why?"

"All that time?" MaH'delyna nodded sharply and he continued. "So you started it the other night after we talked." Worf questioned. She was totally silent. "What made you decide to start it?"

"I had a nightmare."

He rolled his eyes. "That happens to the best of us. I don't think that you should be reliving things like this."

She rounded on him. "Who are you to tell me what to do? Just who do you think you are?" The klingon woman snarled angrily, her voice breaking.

Worf looked into her haunted eyes, black rings around them showing serious deprivation of sleep. "I am Worf, Son of Mohg, but I think you know that." He said patiently. "What's the matter with you?"

"The matter with me? What do you mean, the matter with me? I am fine. What's the matter with you? Why can't you leave me alone?" Her voice rose with her hysteria.

"MaH'delyna, do you want me to call counselor Troi? Are you all right?" He was concerned, and was trying to keep his growing anger under control. He had seen her upset, but never like this. She was totally out of control.

"Get out, Worf!" She shrieked. "GET OUT! GET OUT! GET OUT! Can't you ever leave me alone?" Her fists began to connect very solidly with his chest.

He grabbed her wrists. "Get yourself under control, female!" He yelled back at her in klingon, his personal control gone.

MaH'delyna launched herself at his face, scratching at him like an animal. Her eyes were totally wild, and in the rational part of Worf's brain, he knew that she, mentally, was no longer on the Enterprise. One of her hands clutched his cheek as she went for his eyes, and she hurled obscenities at him. He tried to restrain her without hurting her, and worked to calm himself. He grabbed wrists and waited for her to still. When she did, he murmured, "What is happening to you?"

"They never leave me alone, Worf." She gasped, shuddering. "They always hurt me, always screaming."

"What is it? I can't help if you don't tell me what is wrong. Who don't leave you alone?"

"I haven't slept in days. I keep seeing their faces. Toloth and the others. They keep calling to me, telling me to revenge them, and I know that I can't do it. I just can't. Keth'ex got me the first time, he gets me every time. How can I stop him again? Who will kill him before he kills me?" She moaned softly, as if in pain.

"I will kill him. And if I fail, Gowron will. He wants the men who hurt you as badly as I do. Maybe more." He replied.

"I am so afraid to go to sleep, Worf. It has been so long since I slept last."

Worf picked her up and placed her on the couch. After laying her prone, he said, "Stay right there." and walked into her bedroom. It was bare and undisturbed. He picked up her blanket and carried it back into the front room. After covering her with it, he pulled a chair close and sat down. He watched her watch him.

"I don't understand."

"You need sleep. I can guarantee you that Keth'ex is not here, but as you need reassurance, I will stay here and make sure that he doesn't get you during the night." Worf smiled. "Good-night, MaH'delyna."

Her mouth opened, and she started to rise. "I-"

He gently pushed her down. "No, sleep. Do you want me to tell you a story?"

She stayed down. "A what? Worf, I don't understand." MaH'delyna laughed nervously and pushed his hands away. "Please Worf, I-"

He cut her off firmly. "Hush. When Alexander was younger, he used to get nightmares about the man who murdered his mother. I would take him into his room and tell him a story until he went to sleep. Now," He ordered sternly, "Do you want a story?"

She licked her lips. "All right."

"From earth? Or Qronos?"

"Earth." MaH'delyna said very strongly. "I don't want to be a klingon tonight." She shuddered. "I don't want to be a klingon at all.

Worf winced inwardly and rolled his eyes outwardly. "I don't know if I like the sound of that." He remembered an old tale of his stepmother's and thought it would do nicely.

"Once upon a time there was a beautiful princess, who lived in an enchanted castle. Her father the king was a mighty hunter, and one day he heard that there was a unicorn in the forest. Now, to the humans, a unicorn was a very sacred and mystical beast. A unicorn is a large quadripedal animal that humans like to ride. It is somewhat bigger than a _targ._ Anyway, the unicorn was white, and had a long horn coming out of it's forehead.

"Back to the story, it was known throughout the land that only a human maiden could capture a unicorn, but the king decided to try. He dressed one of his hunters up as a female, and tried to lure the unicorn to him. The unicorn attacked the hunter, almost killing him." Worf made another aside. "Human's never die in their stories. It is sort of taboo. In someways, their culture is lacking some of the finer aspects of story telling."

"Again, back to the story, the beautiful princess asked her father to let her capture the unicorn, and he agreed. She dressed in her finest garments and her father lead her out into the darkened forest. They went to a grassy knoll, where she sat and waited. It was a long day and she fell asleep. When she woke up, she saw the unicorn standing before her. She got up, and told it not to be afraid. The unicorn stayed with her, and she rode it back to the palace, with her until she died, her constant companion. Upon her journey to the next world, it went into the forest and disappeared. It is said that the day that the beautiful princess returns to the forest, the unicorn will return to her."

Worf looked down at MaH'delyna. She was sound asleep. Peaceful. Unafraid. There was almost a smile on her face. He ran a hand down her cheek. "Good night, beautiful princess.", and settled down in his chair for his midnight vigil. "Computer, dim lights ninety-five percent." The computer complied with it's usual promptness.

Worf looked out at the ever present stars. He wondered what would happen if his fellow officers knew that he was in here, telling fairy stories. His image of continual bad temper would be totally ruined. Besides, he liked to scowl. There was nothing like a good, bad mood to brighten one's day, and there was nothing he liked more, than to sink his fist into someone he didn't like's jaw. So he had a bit of poet in him. So what?

Worf fell asleep sometime during the night, for he was abruptly awoken to the sound of someone's mutterings. It was MaH'delyna. She was tossing and turning in the throes of a nightmare. As not to shock her, Worf leaned over and tried to shake her.

Her words caught his ear and he stopped to listen to her. "No, not my son. I will tell you where the Latinum is! No! Please! I don't know what your talking about. She died, and her knowledge died with her! No! ZE'HESTRAL! NO!"

He didn't take the time to process what she said. "MaH'delyna, wake up." He shook her gently.

Her eyes fluttered and slowly opened. "Is that you, Worf?"

"Yes, It is me. Do not be afraid." He said, and touched her hair.

"He didn't get me that time, Worf. You stopped him. You kept your promise." She looked at his face, searching for something that he wasn't sure that she found.

"Go back to sleep, MaH'delyna. I am here." Worf replied.

"Worf, there is something I have to tell you. Keth'ex was looking for something, something that my mother knew about. It must have been the legacy that Toloth told me about." She grasped at him urgently. "It is something that he is afraid of. Something he has to find."

He stared at her. "Do you know what it is? Do you have any idea at all?"

"No, I don't." She sighed, her body falling back into the couch.

He chose another route. "What are the Latinum mines?"

"Latinum, the richest mines the galaxy has ever known, or so Toloth was told. The entire island is covered in it. On SoS, we used it for weapons, a cheap alternative to more rare substances, like iron, and copper." She instructed him softly.

"Could this have all been about something as simple as greed?"

"No, because Kethex didn't seem interested in the mines. I offered to take them there. I begged them to take it all, and go. I didn't even realize how much it was worth. It was because of the Human that I thought such knowledge might save me." She shut her eyes. "I would have given my very soul to save my son. I would have gone down on my knees and given my life, but they didn't take it. It wasn't good enough. I wasn't good enough."

He watched her speak. He listened to what she had to say. The human was motivated by the latinum, Keth'ex motivated by a need to cover up his secret. What about Lersash? How did he fit in? "Don't punish yourself anymore. There was nothing you could have done. Nothing at all. Don't you see? They didn't want you dead right away? They wanted you to die slowly. They were prepared to take your soul. They just left before it did. MaH'delyna, if the Enterprise hadn't arrived, you would have been just as dead as everyone else on SoS, and you would have suffered so much more."

"Making me the living dead. I feel dead inside. I wish I were dead" She drew her head away to look out at the stars.

"Don't talk like that. You have to believe in yourself. You have to live, because if you live, then you triumph over them. If you live, then they have failed." He grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at him. "Because if you live, there is nothing that they can do to stop you from exposing them."


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

Worf was very tired the next day, but he dutifully presented himself in uniform before Picard when the captain summoned him. He nodded at Data who was in command, and chimed the Captain's door. He entered at Picard's brisk "Come."

"Captain, you wished to see me?" He asked.

Picard looked up. "Ah, Mr. Worf, please sit down. Tea?"

"No, thank you, sir." He sat.

Picard rose and walked over to his replicator. "Tea, earl gray, hot." He commanded. He reached into the machine, picked up the glass, and went back to sit behind his desk. "I have some good news and some bad news. The good news is that we have been partially able to locate Admiral de Silva. According too Admiral Trevenne, it appears that de Silva has been in the employ of a klingon named Lersash, as a tutor of human etiquette and ethics.

Worf snorted derisively. "I didn't think that terrorizing and brutality were part of your culture, Sir." He replied sarcastically.

Picard half smiled. "I never really thought so, myself, Worf, but I am merely a starship captain, not an admiral."

"What was the bad news?" He asked.

"The bad news is that Gowron has exerted extreme diplomatic pressure on the Federation to command the Enterprise to speed up their arrival date to the Empire. He says that it is tradition for the host of the festival to look after his guests in his house for at least a week before hand." Picard sipped his tea.

"That is absurd, Sir!" He exploded. "If anything, we were arriving almost too early as it is. Guests of the _NeH'sezv'ar_ Festival are supposed to arrive on the day, and not a moment earlier."

"Gowron has made it clear that if he can't have the entire Enterprise, he wants you. His diplomats have suggested that you be put on leave, and that you, and any other Klingon on this vessel, are to be placed in a shuttle and shipped off to the empire as fast as possible. This is so you can help your house in it's preparations for the ceremonies." Jean-Luc Picard replied.

"I have prepared. I said, 'Kurn, arrange it'. It was very easy." He said flatly. Worf rolled his fingers into fists and could feel all the muscles in his arms tighten as he squeezed at the empty air.

"I understand, but Starfleet doesn't know what to do, they are waiting for my recommendation, and I am waiting for yours. The problem is they don't want to upset Gowron all that much. Many of the Admirals consider Gowron a loose cannon." The captain explained.

"But if it is all diplomatic posturing, why are they worried?" Worf asked.

"Because of the noise Gowron is making. You know as well as I do that he can't order us around, but the Federation council thinks that giving us to him will make him quiet. Appeasement, pure and simple." Picard made a purely gallic shrug.

"I don't want MaH'delyna off the Enterprise. She is too vulnerable to attack. The chances of her getting murdered are reduced greatly on the Enterprise. The moment Keth'ex knows she is alive, he is going to be try everything in his power to eliminate her."

"So you suggest we take the Enterprise to the Empire, now?"

"No. I think you should tell the diplomats to ignore Gowron." Worf said.

"And what do I tell them to do with the most illustrious leader of the Klingon high council?" Picard asked raising a brow. "Gowron isn't going to back down at all."

Worf thought about it, and then thought of something that would annoy Gowron no end. "Tell them to make an appeal to Kah'less. Kah'less is the Klingon emperor, and Gowron's superior."

"But Kah'less has no power, directly."

"Ah, but he has enough to tell Gowron off. Kah'less is a reasonable man. Tell him that we need time. I will contact him later today, if you wish?"

"That might be a good idea. I will also pass your advice on to Trevenne."

Worf changed the subject. "I found out that SoS is full of Latinum. MaH'delyna says that the mines are practically bottomless."

"As in the Ferengi's beloved gold pressed Latinum?" Picard replied, looking mildly surprised.

"The very same. Apparently, that is what de Silva is after, or at least that is what MaH'delyna thinks." Worf supplied.

"So it would seem that the universe's oldest demon, greed, was partially behind this. Why am I not surprised?" Picard said dryly.

"I didn't think you would be."

"This changes things. In talks between the Federation and the Empire, talks have been leaning towards that if Survivor X, which is how MaH'delyna is referred to, if survivor X is of sound mind when put before a board of medical inquiry, he or she will take custodianship of SoS until the end of his or her days, and that position will pass through he or she's future offspring, all under the aegis of either the Federation or the Empire, the problem being which one. In the event that Survivor X is not of sound mind, the planet will go under complete control of either the Federation or the Empire. The way the talks are going, and because survivor X is a klingon, It definitely looks that direct ownership of SoS will go to the Empire." Picard told him.

"But that means if the Empire takes ownership of SoS, and MaH'delyna dies, Gowron becomes a very rich man." Worf exclaimed.

"Exactly. I would be careful around Gowron, Worf. I believe him to be far cleverer than most give him credit for" Jean-luc sipped his tea again.

"When will a decision be made as to ownership?"

"Within the week, I would expect. They want to settle the issue before someone 'claims' the planet. This information about the Latinum will make things very messy." Picard said.

"Either way, we won't make it to the Empire before the decisions made. I don't think we should increase our schedule. Gowron can stew." Worf answered. Oh yes, he thought, Gowron can stew.

"I would tend to agree. You are dismissed, Mr. Worf."

Worf rose, left the Captain's office and went back to his office. He found MaH'delyna waiting in there for him. She looked almost radiant, in a brilliant green dress, that amazingly did not reach the floor. Worf could actually see her legs, and they were fine looking ankles. He was almost shocked. She sat on the edge of his desk, looking at one of his klingon scrolls.

She rose from the desk at his entrance. "Worf." She smiled.

"Hello. May I ask how you got in here?" He asked. No one could get into his office. It was a question of security. Worf often kept highly sensitive equipment and information in his office.

"The man in front of the door across the hall let me in. I hope you don't mind. I had to talk to you, and I assumed that you would show up here at some point during the day." She stood looking at the floor. "You weren't in your quarters." She said with a tiny moue.

He walked around his desk, sat down and gestured to a chair which was opposite. "I will have to have a little chat with him. Have a seat. What did you want?"

MaH'delyna sat gracefully. "I wanted to thank you for last night." She said quietly.

He thought for a minute. "I didn't do anything last night. I merely sat with you, and watched you sleep. You did all the hard work." He smiled, as he laid his fingers on the top of his desk. MaH'delyna looked much better this morning, as if some of her demons had been laid to rest. He had to admit to himself that she was a very exotic woman.

"Worf, many men would have taken advantage of a woman in my position, and I wanted to let you know I appreciate your being such a kind and understanding person." She gently ran a finger down his hand, and then enclosed it in her own.

"It would be have been dishonorable to have taken advantage of you. I should hope by now you know I would not do such a thing!" He said. "And besides," Worf added cheekily, "If I am going to take advantage of you, I certainly want you to be awake to enjoy the experience."

She ignored that. "It always comes down to honor for you, doesn't it?"

"I believe that counselor Troi said something along those lines a few weeks ago. I believe in honor. It is the most important tenant of our culture." He answered.

"But there are many dishonorable men out there. Even Toloth, who I thought to be one of the most honorable in the world, was nothing like you. You take honor to it's highest form. You don't merely act honorable, you are honorable, down to your core." She said.

"Thank you. I would like to think I am, but I know I fall short of that mark." Worf replied. He wondered where all this was going.

"You sell yourself short by saying that."

There was a tangible silence in the room. Worf's thoughts whirled, but the same question kept whirling around his brain. Finally he asked, "Did you love _Qang_ Toloth?" He could have swallowed his tongue the moment he said it.

Her face didn't change, but her posture did. She froze and then relaxed. "Did I love Toloth? That is a very difficult question. Without thought, I would probably say yes, I did." Worf stayed silent. He didn't like the sound of this, but he had to reap the questions he had sown. She continued, "But I don't think I did, not really. Toloth was the only man other than my father, and General Tyng, who ever spent great amounts of time with me. Toloth made me feel special, and loved, but it is hard to love a man when you constantly live under the specter of another wife taking your position. There is a whole 'this is a dream and when I wake up I will be discarded and lonely,' feeling. It is extremely hard to get close, to give all of yourself, when you just never know if you are going to be pushed into the background by a younger, more beautiful, -or more fertile, for that matter, woman. I don't know if Toloth would have ever tired of me, and I certainly didn't ask him if he would, I didn't even want to think about it in the event it would come true.

"And the other thing is, Toloth treated me like a daughter for the first three years of our bonding. In some ways, it was like being married to my father. He was quite old, thirty-six, when he took the oath with me. I was thirteen. Perhaps I loved him like a father. I think that would be more appropriate, because I don't remember loving him like a man." She finished.

He digested it all. "I can't exactly say that I understand. I have never had any experiences that parallel that in any way, but I comprehend what you are saying."

She smiled. "Then that is what matters. I am curious as to why you ask?"

He wasn't particularly prepared for that question. He floundered around until he came up with something. "I wondered because you never mention him. I wondered if you mourned him."

"I mourn the loss of his presence. We were together for eleven years, and Toloth was a very charismatic person. He sucked up space. Sometimes I feel like I have all this space around me and I feel- but it doesn't matter now. I was always in his shadow. He was _Qang_ Toloth, and for a long time I was merely his second mate." She smiled.

"No status in that?" He half smiled.

"None at all. The first wife of any minor noble outranked me. I stayed in the compound all the time. Then Karela died, and I was the first lady of SoS. The only female to out rank me was Queen Cesta. I went everywhere with Toloth. I could do almost anything that I wanted, as long as I took my guard with me; however, I was to timid to do anything without him, though. On SoS there were so many rules as to what you could do, and what you could say, and to whom. I was lost without him, but now, I realize I'm on my own, and the universe seems so huge, I have so much space. I don't know what to do." MaH'delyna said, her voice strangely emotional.

Her words made sense to him. He understand now why she acted the way she did. She was used to always being second. Second to her husband, second to another woman. No wonder why she was afraid. MaH'delyna had not been able to think for herself in eleven or twelve years. Someone else always told her what to do, and how to act. He needed to coax her out of her shell.

"What do you want to do?" He asked her.

She looked at him very directly. "I want to live, Worf. I want the men who killed my son and I want them to suffer. They took away all that I had, and left me empty. I want to fight back. I want my revenge."

So much for the coaxing. "What do you want me to do?"

"I need your help. I don't know what answers I have, and what I have, I don't know how to find, but I will do everything I can to remember." MaH'delyna answered.

He took his hand out of hers and reached into his desk. He drew out a small dirk that he kept there and made a small cut in his palm. Worf then took his hand and pressed it into hers. "I promise you, with my blood, and the blood of my ancestors, that I will help you in your quest for vengeance. I, and all the resources at my disposal are yours. With this blood, I vow that I will not rest until your honor has been restored to you."

Her hand tightened in his. "You are a man beyond compare, Son of Mohg." She whispered, before making the proper response to an oath. "Honor this oath and good fortune will shine on the daggers of your house, dishonor it and the Fek'lhr will curse your line forever." She released his hand, drew a handkerchief from her bodice and began to daub from his wound.

"Uh, your not supposed to do that." He murmured, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Why?

"Because, it is supposed to dry, to show the bond of our agreement." He exclaimed, trying to move his hand back.

She held on to his hand firmly with her other, and said, "I know your oath is binding, but if you bleed to death, you won't be much help to me, now will you? Having one of the people watch while the other gushes out copious amounts of blood must have been a custom invented by a man. It's nonsense."

He sat lamely. "I am hardly gushing, and besides, it is a tradition. It shows that I can take the pain."

"I know that you can take the pain. Do you think that you can't?"

"It is only a little cut, obviously I can take the pain." He snorted.

"So what is the point?" She knotted the makeshift bandage. "There. I have had enough people leave me during my life time. I am going to keep you alive."

"Why, thank you." He said sarcastically.

"You're welcome. I should go. I have work to do, and so do you." She walked out toward the door.

"MaH'delyna," He called.

She turned around. "Yes?"

"It is my intention to keep you alive too." He said, deadly serious.

She nodded gravely. "I know you will, Worf. I trust you with my life." She left.

He sat at his desk staring at the door. He stared at it for a very long time. What had he gotten himself into? What had he done? And what had happened to MaH'delyna between last night and this afternoon? He was dumfounded. What was going on in her mind? Had her nightmares stopped?

Worf began to shuffle through the things on his desk. He had much work to do; getting a hold of Kurn, Gowron, and Kahless. He didn't need the call that he was about to get from Picard.

"Mr. Worf, would you please report to my ready room again." Picard said.

"Aye sir." Worf got up and walked out of his office. He stopped to talk to the Ensign outside the armory. "Ensign Deshva, do not, under any circumstances let anyone into my office without my express permission. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Crystal, Sir."

Worf nodded and moved on his way. A few minutes later he found himself in the same place that he had been only a few hours ago. He chimed the door, and entered. "Captain Picard, you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I have bad news." The Captains shrewd eyes saw the green handkerchief around Worf's hand. "What happened to your hand Mr. Worf?"

"Nothing sir. I cut myself."

Picard crossed his arms across his chest. "Let me guess, shaving?"

"No, Sir. Cutting my fingernails." He clamped his jaws together, trying to keep his face straight.

"Well, be careful. As I said, I have bad news. Because of the Federation's refusal to bring the Enterprise to Qronos a week early, Gowron has, or more appropriately, Kahless has moved the date of the NeH'sezv'ar Festival up by a week. We have to be there within four days." Picard said distastefully.

"He can't do that!" Worf practically shouted.

"He has. Somehow he convinced Kahless remember a religious reason to move the festival date up by a week, and extend the festivities over the entire month." The Captain tapped his fingers on his desk. "I am sorry, Worf. He out maneuvered us."

"I am going to kill him!" Worf grumbled.

Picard smiled faintly. "Would you like some help?"


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

Two days later, the morning after the poker game, Worf was busily getting ready to teach his T'ai Chi class on the rec deck. He was extremely pleased with himself, having won about forty more credits off Deanna, and about fifteen off Data. Data might have a good poker face, but he couldn't bluff, and that was the secret to poker. He half smiled to himself in the mirror, as he watched his students file in. Riker and Beverly entered, and following them were Deanna and- He felt his eyes pop out. Yes, it was MaH'delyna behind Troi. She was wearing the standard white practice uniform that his other students wore, and the color on the lapel was white, denoting amateur status, but above her heart was the fanged pin that showed her to have achieved the highest rank available in the Klingon fighting style of Ba, a style taught to klingon children. It was impressive, even from an adult point of view.

"All right, Good Morning everyone. Shall we begin?" He turned to face the mirror and began the hundred and seven moves of T'ai Chi. They were slow and rhythmic and he let them wash over him. It was an art of ultimate control, and he enjoyed being able to master it. T'ai Chi always relaxed him.

He found himself watching MaH'delyna in the mirror, who was busy watching Troi. The klingon woman was quick to pick on the movements, but her transition between them was jerky. He didn't hold that against her. This would have been the first time she would have ever seen T'ai Chi.

He finished up the class feeling energized. He relished in this kind of labor. He walked over to Riker, Beverly, Deanna, and MaH'delyna.

"So what do you think of T'ai Chi, MaH'delyna?" Riker asked.

"It is different to what I have learned in the past, but it very pleasant." She made a semi smile at Riker. Worf knew that the commander made her very nervous.

Riker muttered, "I have been doing this for five years now and am sweating like a pig; this is her first time and she isn't even breathing hard! It isn't fair!"

Beverly turned to MaH'delyna. "I heard from Worf that the people of SoS had their own fighting style. Is that true?"

"Very true. Fighting on SoS evolved after the SoSian people left the empire. Some of the moves are different, but mostly it is just the rules." MaH'delyna explained an amused smile on her face.

"Do you know any of it?" Riker asked.

"On SoS women weren't taught to fight. Fighting was reserved solely for the men."

Deanna turned to her, a smile on her face. "But?"

MaH'delyna's smile grew. "When Toloth learned that I could already fight, he decided to teach me, a little anyway."

"Show us something." Beverly said.

"Well, it is difficult to demonstrate unless you are in an actual combat situation." MaH'delyna replied.

Troi grinned. "Fight Worf!"

"If he is willing, sure." The klingon woman looked impishly at him. "Are you game?"

He felt his lips twitch. "Why not. You name the rules." He would let her have this much. He knew defeating her would be easy. As impressed as he was with the Ba, he held the same rank in it as her, and he also knew the HaH, the fighting style of masters, which was only taught to adult klingons. His rank in that was the highest one could get without spending every day in training.

"Full contact, all hits legal. Exception being no grabbing of hair. I would like my scalp to remain intact." She walked slowly into the middle of the room, limbering her arms a little. The word that someone was going to fight Worf had spread throughout the room, and people were lining around the edges.

"A true warrior does not need to grab his opponents hair." He challenged.

"It is a favored SoS rule that I do not like." She shook herself, and reached her arms above her head. She turned to Troi. "Start us whenever you are ready."

Worf was definitely going to go easy on her. He knew she needed her confidence, and this was a perfect way for her to get it. He stretched and was ready.

"Begin!" Troi ordered.

Worf immediately dropped into a defensive crouch. He watched MaH'delyna. She stood there, fully erect, watching him. He circled her, and she pivoted where she stood. He moved closer, and made a cursory jab at her, she darted backwards, and sprang, legs outstretched. He was ready, sort of, anyway. She caught him square on the chest, landed in front of him, crouched. He threw a few more punches that were easy for her to parry. In return she made some lightning fast jabs with her fists. One impacted, but is was very light.

So she had speed. That didn't mean much. He had more skill, and a much greater strength. Used well, he could eliminate her quickly. She feinted low and when he moved to block her, she sprang over his shoulders, to land behind him. Before he could do anything about it, she punched the back of his knee. HARD! He clamped on his teeth to keep from gasping out, and rolled into a somersault to keep from sprawling on his face. She was on him before he could recover. He felt himself being grabbed by the neck and buttock and hurled through the air. He caught himself, and landed on his feet.

"You're playing for keeps, aren't you." He puffed.

She narrowed her eyes, and quoted, "You dishonor yourself when you underestimate your opponent."

He sneered. This was not the best time for her to quote the scrolls of Ba. What she had said was the very first rule. She had caught him at his own game, lured him into a sense of complacency and made him look foolish. He looked into her eyes. She was AMUSED! He was going to get her for this. "Prepare yourself for battle!" He rasped. He was more than slightly annoyed. He made a lunge for her.

She danced out of his way. "Don't get angry. Second rule of Ba, in case you forgot." She parried his blow. "Only a _Targ_ fights when angry."

He made a one-two jab, which she parried, followed by a round house kick, which she did not. He felt the impact against his foot and she went sailing through the air. MaH'delyna landed on her back with a whoomp, and he was on her in seconds. She sprang up from her back before he could reach her and they circled each other warily, like two cats, waiting to see who would strike first.

He did. It was a flying kick. He hit her again, but as she went down, she tangled herself in him enough that he went down too. One her way up she nailed him viciously in the ribs with her heel. He grunted, and rolled up. He was starting to get tired, but he knew she was far more tired. Her breathing was coming in quick gasps, and her face gleamed with perspiration.

MaH'delyna attacked first, this time. The side of her arm caught him where the neck joins the shoulder. But the painful jab had been a mistake on her part. He was able to get a hold on her. She struggled like a wildcat, and he sustained several blows in the process, but he held on.

It slipped out; more of an instinctive reaction of male dominance, than a conscious thought. He growled at her. It was a low and husky noise that came from the bottom of his throat. It was one of those, 'I am a man, and I am interested' noises. In someways, he regretted it, because last time he had growled at her, she had snapped. He pulled her closer, and growled again. He had her now. She was his.

He wasn't prepared for her response. She went limp in his arms and she purred back at him. He froze. He had expected many things, but not total submission. He looked at her out of the corner of her eye. It was what she had been waiting for. In his semi daze of shock, he felt himself being hurled through the air. He slammed into the wall of the room with an audible thud. He picked himself off the floor and shook his head. Everyone was staring at him, and MaH'delyna stood with her hands on her hips. Her chest was heaving, and she looked a little surprised himself. Everyone in the room stood in disbelief at the center mat. He felt himself color slightly. She made a noise somewhere between a cough and a giggle and slowly limped out of the room. He blinked, staring at the spot where she had been standing.

She had outsmarted him; she could fight. He shook his his head. Boy, could she fight. He got up, took a step forward, and the shoulder with which he hit the wall, began to smart. He blinked again, in a haze of dismay, disbelief and frustration. He didn't understand what had just happened, and he wasn't to sure that if he did know, he would like the meaning of it.

Suddenly, everyone in the room began to move. Beverly rushed forward. "Worf, are you okay? I was sure I heard a bone snap when you hit the wall."

He looked blankly at the Doctor. "She is magnificent." He breathed. He stared at her, and started to move past Beverly like an automon. He had to find MaH'delyna. He had questions. Boy, did he have questions.

Beverly smirked and whispered, "Cool your thrusters, Romeo. Wait a moment before you go after her. I need to make sure you are ok." She began to probe his shoulder.

Riker walked up beside Worf. "What happened there? You had her!"

"It appears that I didn't." He grunted, and scowled when Crusher hit a particularly sensitive bit of arm.

"Well, that was the most amazing thing that I have ever seen. You were out for blood, weren't you? That wasn't sparring." Riker exclaimed, an almost speculative look on his face.

"Well, you seem fine. Next time, don't get distracted." Beverly gave him a knowing wink behind Riker's head. "I am going to go find MaH'delyna. She barely made it out of the room. Deanna is with her." The doctor sauntered off.

"Yes, I guess we were out for each other's blood. She is very strong." Worf mumbled, as he rubbed his shoulder. Very strong indeed, he thought.

"She has always seemed rather, well, mousy to me. I wonder what brought out the change in her?" Riker asked, as they walked out of the gym.

"We have been spending a good deal of time together, working on this investigation. Everything is ready for our rendezvous with Tyng's shuttle, by the way. It is a good thing that the ship bringing him was able to adjust to the different coordinates." Worf said.

Riker ignored him. He grinned evilly in his beard. "You are falling for her!"

Worf whipped his head around. "I am NOT!" He protested vehemently.

Will shook his head, and laughed disbelievingly. "I don't believe it! The king of celibate finally finds a woman."

Worf faced the hall and plodded on resolutely. "I thought that was Geordi." He grumbled.

"All right, the crown prince of celibate! Worf, I'm happy for you!" Riker clapped him on the back.

He winced and sucked in air through his teeth. "Well, don't congratulate me yet. Gowron says she is his. Apparently she was mostly promised to him at birth, and he holds the betrothal as valid. Staked out his claim, you could say."

"What? He hasn't even seen her!" Riker blurted.

"You know Gowron. Once he has something in his mind, he never gives up. He has built a shrine around her in his mind. In two days, he will come on board, sweep her off her feet with all the pomp and ceremony that only the leader of the high Council can muster, have her oathed and producing little warriors before she can blink." Worf replied morosely. "She will go back to the same life that she lived before. One man's puppet, to being another man's puppet."

"What's this?"

They reached Worf's quarters, and entered. "Have a seat. Would you like something to drink?"

"Whatever you're having."

Worf walked over and hit the replicator. "Warnog. Two." He grabbed the steaming glasses and walked over to sit in the chair opposite from Riker. "She didn't have much status in SoSian society. I realize most klingon women aren't the most liberated in the galaxy, but from what MaH'delyna has been telling me, Women on SoS are nothing more than baby machines. I don't want to see her go from one state of marital slavery to another. I want her to have the time to make her own decisions. I want her to be with a klingon who respects her, and who would be gentle with her."

Riker blinked and rubbed his chin through his beard. "That klingon being you, correct?"

"Not necessarily." He replied defensively.

Riker chocked on his Warnog. "That lie was balder than Picard! You cannot honestly say that you would be happy if she was with another man!"

"I would respect any decision she made of her own free will. Commander, she is very vulnerable. She gets scared very easily, despite her posturing. She is becoming an adept student in feminism; though."

Riker grinned again. "Let me guess, under the tutelage of a certain doctor, counselor team?"

"She is emerging from her shell, slowly, a klingon butterfly." He made a flowing gesture with his hand. "I just don't want to see her stomped on again."

Will shook his head. "You have it bad!"

Worf scowled. "Do you know that she could not leave Toloth's compound without a veil on her face?"

"It was their culture, Worf."

He grunted. "Oh well."

"So what is the Enterprise doing for the _NeH'sezv'ar_ festivities? And how does it fit in with our schedule?" Riker asked.

"We are throwing a ball in Holodeck three, the night we arrive, for the members of the high council and their mates, and all the visiting dignitaries. I don't know how it will relate to the investigation. I have asked MaH'delyna to attend as my date, purely so that I can protect her. We are hoping that the perpetrators will be so shocked by seeing her alive, that they will do something to implicate themselves." Worf told the dark haired human.

"How are things going with the investigation, Worf?"

"I don't know, confusing, and there is no proof of anything. There are things that don't make any sense at all. Twelve years ago, Lersash and Keth'ex were enemies, they hated each other enough to declare a blood feud on each other, but now they are busom buddies? Fifteen years ago, on earth at a diplomatic function, Keth'ex insulted de Silva, and a vulcan named Gelvok of making illicit deals at some trade negotiations, causing de Silva to be publicly humiliated and this Gelvok to be kicked out of the Vulcan diplomatic service, but now de Silva is working with Keth'ex and Lersash, teaching them human etiquette. Does this make any sense? It goes on and on!" Worf snarled.

"Tell me about this blood feud?" Riker asked.

"Well, it seems that about fifteen years ago there were a series of unidentified raids against several klingon merchant vessels. Lersash publicly accused Keth'ex of robbing the empire. Keth'ex was able to clear most of the stain away from his honor, but because there would always be doubts as to his innocence, Keth'ex called a blood feud. It was very messy, Lersash's son was murdered, and Keth'ex's family were killed in an unknown explosion. That is the explosion which left MaH'delyna on SoS.

"Anyway, it was all a stalemate. No one lost, no one won. Keth'ex voluntarily removed himself from the council to live in relative obscurity. He scattered his army to the winds and that was that. Lersash gained power, and a seat on the council, Keth'ex retained his seat on the council, but lost all of his power." Worf finished. "Or political clout at any rate. He still has control of the dylithuim mines."

"It doesn't sound to me that men who had a falling out such as that would want to be friends." Riker agreed.

Worf nodded. "I know."

Riker stood up. "Well, I had better go. I need a shower. Keep up the good work, Worf! All proof comes to those who wait." He coined. "I know you will find what you are looking for."

"I wish that I shared your belief. I don't know what is going to happen." Worf stood up also. "I think I am going to follow your shower idea. I smell." He wrinkled his nose slightly.

Riker smirked and walked out the door. "Happy showering."

Worf watched the door slide close, and traveled the way to his shower. He let the warm water sloosh over him, and with a contented sigh, leaned his head into the side of the stall. He hurt, and the water felt so good. There was nothing in the entire world like a hot shower. When you were sore, it was the most soothing balm, and when you were tired, it felt like sleep. Liquid sleep. He liked that. It was poetic.

He must have stayed in the shower for half an hour for when he finally decided to emerge, his hands and feet had gone pruney. He toweled himself off and took a long look at his shoulder in the mirror. There was a beautifully purple bruise forming. Lovely, he thought. Just what I need. He knew he could have gone down to sick bay to have it taken care of, but he didn't want to. There was something rather wimpy about running to the doctor every time one got an abrasion. "Anyway," He said to the mirror, "Bruises are the mark of a warrior." Worf noticed that the mirror didn't look impressed.

He walked into his bedroom and dressed in a comfortable black outfit. He liked black; a nice, somber color. Worf then walked into his front room and sat down at his computer. He sent a message to Kurn telling his brother to call him. He had to wait only a few minutes before the insignia of the Empire flashed onto the screen.

"Brother. It has been several days. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me!" Kurn said slyly.

"Very funny. What do you think of Gowron's moving the festival date up a week? Were you as surprised as we were?"

Kurn rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "You have no idea what that little decision has put me through. Delegations from at least thirty different planets have contacted me, screaming about it. I am going to kill Gowron when I have the time. Perhaps sometime next week."

"Actually, I believe I have first place in the line up of people wanting to kill him, and Picard is second. You can kill him when we are finished." Worf smirked. "That is, if there is anything left of him."

Kurn laughed, then sobered. "I have some interesting news for you, Worf. It seems that an hour ago, the Federation and the Empire decided that SoS should come under the dominion of the Empire. It's ours."

"What about MaH'delyna's claim on it?" Worf asked.

"As I read the agreement, it comes under the custodianship of the SoSian survivor should that survivor be found sane by a group of Imperial and Federation medical experts. So, if she isn't crazy or dead, she keeps it in the name of the empire." Kurn looked down at whatever he was reading. "The inquiry has been set for six days from now, on Qronos, two days after you get here."

"Kurn, do they know about the Latinum?" Worf asked.

His brother nodded. "Yes, both sides know that there are some Latinum deposits on the planet. Gowron seemed extremely pleased, and, frankly, I don't blame him. We are the envy of every Ferengi from here to Earth. The council's coffers just expanded nicely. It is almost too good to be true."

"It might just be." Worf grumbled.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Well, I definitely can't trust Gowron anymore. He just received a very large reason to have MaH'delyna assassinated. Gowron gets greedy and it could be the end for her." Worf muttered. "Dammit, I didn't need to hear this today."

"By the way, brother, were you in a fight recently? You seemed to be a little bruised in the face." Kurn asked.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I was, not like it is any of your business. I had a run in with a very sneaky little female." Worf growled.

"Well, well, well. What is her name, and when do I get to leer at her?" Kurn said, practicing his leer.

"Act like that and Bujal will scratch your eyes out." Worf warned.

"I am allowed to look. I just can't growl." Kurn shrugged. "It isn't a bad life. It just could be better."

"Well, as it isn't honorable to hit and tell, so I am going to leave you in the dark." Worf laughed.

"You are evil, brother, evil."

"By the way, I have a poem for you for Bujal. She should like it."

"Well, recite it and I will copy it down. This way there is no evidence to prove I didn't write it." Kurn laughed.

"All right."

"I wish that I had your talent for things like poetry. Years ago I would have scoffed at such an unwarrior like pastime, but now, I think I am paying for my conceit. Whenever you are ready." Kurn joked.

Worf began. "It is called 'Let the Night'.

 _Let the night surround you,_

 _Let her look her fill._

 _Let her tentacles embrace you._

 _Let her touch at will_

 _Let her scent enfold you._

 _Let her lips draw near._

 _Let the night caress you,_

 _Let her, without fear._

 _Let the Lady kiss you,_

 _Let her fingers through your hair._

 _Let her breathe down your neck,_

 _Let her love you, if you dare._

 _Grab her with your two hands!_

 _Hold her with all your might._

 _For soon her sister, Dawn, will come,_

 _And she'll drift out of sight."_

Kurn looked at his brother through the view screen "Worf, are you planning to take the oath with this woman?" His voice was full of concern.

"No, why?"

"Because, you have it really bad. I have never heard anything like that before. It is nice, but I don't think Bujal will appreciate it. It is one of those poems that is written about someone, and I don't think that Bujal would think it as written for her. No, you keep that one. Change the She's to He's and give it to your mystery female. You will feel much happier when you do!" Kurn supplied cheerfully.

"You are so funny."

"I don't believe it! My stuff shirt brother has finally found someone. I hope she leads you on a merry chase, brother. I think you deserve it! Kurn out." The screen flicked into blackness.

Worf sat there a moment. He licked his lips and contemplated Kurn's impudent advice. Was he really in love with MaH'delyna? He didn't think so. She was more of a symbol to him. Somewhere on a pedestal that he couldn't reach, and, anyway, she was Gowron's.

He decided to call Kahless. The transmission went out on a private, encoded frequency, and an instant later it was picked up in the guardian enclave. Worf had a burgeoning respect for the klingon emperor. Since he had come to power he had done may things for the morale fiber of the Empire. People were returning to the older values of duty and honor.

"Worf! My friend! What can I do for you?" If there was one thing about Kahless that went against perceptions of the klingon psyche, it was his constant cheerful attitude. There was very little that you could say to Kahless to get rid of his joviality. Sometimes that bothered Worf. He never seemed to act with any restraint, Kahless, was just Kahless, all of the time.

"I am curious, your imperial Majesty, as to why the date of the _NeH'sezv'ar_ festival was moved up by a week? It has caused a certain amount of stress to the foreigners coming to the empire." Worf asked politely.

Kahless looked at him shrewdly. "Do you want the real answer, or the answer I give my lackeys?"

Worf looked at him sternly. "I would prefer the real one. I don't appreciate lies all that much. They tend to make me rather angry."

"Ah, Worf, don't ever change! Your heart is definitely klingon." Kahless chuckled. "The answer is I owed Gowron a favor. He came after me, ranting and raving that the date had to be moved up due to the precarious position of the SoS survivor. It was something about that she was in poor shape and he wanted her to receive medical treatment on Qronos, and the only way he could get her here sooner was if I moved the date up. Personally, I didn't believe a word of it, but I did move the date up." Kahless shrugged. "He bows enough under my orders. It doesn't hurt for me to give in to him for a change!"

"Kahless, I trust you, and I want to trust you with something important. The survivor of SoS' name is DiH'xang-MaH'delyna and she is the daughter of Keth'ex, whom she swears is an impostor. I would ask if anything should happen to me that you will place her under your aegis. I am worried about Gowron's motives and I know if she goes into her father's care, she will maybe get as far as the door of the high council chambers before someone guts her." Worf had never been more serious in his life. "And I would ask that you would help her to discover herself before she makes any decisions about Gowron."

Kahless stared back at him, digesting the information. "You can trust me. I will do as you ask. You have my vow on that."

"Thank you, Kahless. I am sure that you are aware of the decision on the ownership of SoS?" He continued with the emperors nod. "Well, apparently the entire planet is covered with Latinum. If MaH'delyna dies, or is pronouced unfit by a medical board, It all goes to the High council, and indirectly into Gowron's pocket."

"I can see why you would be distrustful of Gowron. Even though I can't say that I particularly like him, I can say that I have a certain amount of respect for him, and I doubt he would kill her to get the planet." Kahless paused, "I can see him, however, having her pronounced unfit. Gowron likes sneaky, and I think that would appeal to him." The klingon emperor said.

"Which is why I'm concerned. Gowron has the power, and the resources to do anything that he wants, and I wouldn't put anything above him." Worf replied.

"But Worf, don't be to quick to judge .The financial situation of the Empire is fine, or so they tell me. We don't need MaH'delyna's Latinum. Gowron might be truly concerned about her welfare, and have only her best interests in mind."

Worf looked at the emperor. "Somehow, I think Gowron has only his best interests in mind. I don't think anyone else crosses Gowron's mind but Gowron. He might not have been involved in the attack on SoS, but he has a very good cause for wanting her out of the way. Greed is a very powerful motivator."

"True, true. Gowron has been acting very strangely these last few days, but I would put the emotion at something a bit closer to euphoric, than to murderous. He has been making all sorts of interesting plans for the survivor, including having her spend a certain amount of time with me. That I find strange because Gowron doesn't like any of his cronies coming near me. Somehow I think he sees me as a threat to his power." Kahless laughed evilly. "Not that I'm not, mind you."

"By the Fek'lhr, I wonder why? Could it be that you turned up out of the guardians lab and took the position he had been coveting?" Worf had to laugh himself.

The emperor shrugged innocently. "I let him keep the shiny jacket. He should be pleased. I wanted it, you know!"

"Don't pout, your imperial majesty. You have the scepter. Don't be greedy."

Kahless snorted. "Yes, I do, and Gowron will always be slightly annoyed. He will just have to live with it!"

Worf smiled. "Good day, Kahless, see you at the festivities. I won't see you until the ball, for I will be busy making preparations. Security and all."

"I understand. I will do as you ask, but I doubt anything will happen to you. There would be hell to pay if you were murdered. Your position is useful to the council and your brother has much power. May your blade always be sharp. Kahless out." The screen flipped into the ensignia of the empire before going blank.

So Gowron had booked time for MaH'delyna to see Kahless. That was interesting. It made no sense, but it was a very interesting piece of information. A colossal why was building in his brain, and he didn't have much time to satisfy it. They would be at the homeworld in two days, and he felt things were going to explode in his face.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**

The Enterprise had arrived at the planet of Qronos. Worf stood in the observation lounge and stared through the windows at his home planet. It was a magnificent sight. The great planet hanging in the fabric of space. Worf smiled to himself. He had heard from Commander Riker that there was practically an orbital traffic jam, as Gowron had called back most of the klingon fleet, and then there were the ships of the other races who came to celebrate the _NeH'sezv'ar_ festival.

The festival was to celebrate the unification of the klingon nations which happened around a thousand years ago, under the real Kahless. This was the first time that it had been celebrated since the emperor's return, and Gowron was making a big political spectacle of it.

The doors opened behind him, and Gowron, Kurn and Captain Picard swept into the room. Worf turned and walked over to embrace his brother. As usual Kurn looked like a wild man. Gowron just looked colossally annoyed. He also looked extremely haggard.

"Brother!" Worf growled happily.

"Worf! It has been a while. It is good to see you face to face again." Kurn said.

Gowron turned to Worf. "Enough of these pleasantries, where is MaH'delyna?" He asked forcefully.

Picard turned to Gowron, "Let's have a seat, shall we?" Picard sat and the others followed suit.

"She is on the ship, Gowron. You know that." Worf answered.

"I want her off the ship. I can protect her much better on the homeworld." The leader of the high council hissed angrily.

"Oh, I am sure that you can; however, she stays where she is, at least for a few days." Worf replied.

"When?" Kurn asked, trying to diffuse the tension between the two men.

Worf's eyes bored into Gowron. "After the medical inquiry."

Gowron shot up out of his chair. "What are you accusing me of?" He shouted.

Worf jumped to his feet. "I am not accusing you of anything, I am merely doing my job, protecting MaH'delyna from any who would profit from her death." He snarled ominously.

"How dare you challenge my honor! I have already promised you that I won't hurt her! How dare you accuse me of contemplating her death." Gowron barked.

"I didn't say anything!" Worf ground out.

Picard stood up. "Gentlemen, please sit down."

"Shut up, Picard." Gowron turned back to Worf. "I will see the girl and I will see her now!"

Worf obeyed his superior officer's orders and seated himself. "You will see her tonight, and not before. Be patient, Gowron." He sneered, hating Gowron at this moment.

"I will have the girl, I will have her tonight, even if I have to drag her from you, Worf." Gowron pivoted on his heel and stalked out of the room.

Kurn rose. "I should follow him. See you tonight, Worf, Captain Picard." He followed Gowron.

Picard turned to Worf. "What was that in aid of?" He asked coldly.

"Gowron was being particularly unreasonable. I just put him in his place." Worf shrugged. "I was showing him my strength. In the end, I will have gained more respect in his eyes and I have protected my witness."

Picard rolled his eyes. "Oh good. Next time warn me when you are going to antagonize visiting heads of state. I am not pleased, Mr. Worf."

"I apologize, sir. I just wanted Gowron to know that I don't trust him" Worf replied.

Picard grunted. "Is everything ready for this evening?"

"Yes. Security is at a maximum. I will stay with MaH'delyna all night. Hopefully we will flush Lersash and his merry men out of obscurity. I have warned sick bay that there could be trouble." Worf answered.

"Then you are dismissed, Worf. I will see you this evening." Picard got up and swept from the room. Worf followed suit.

Worf hated the starfleet dress uniform. It was too tight in the neck and it was impossible to fight in. He looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't look all that bad, though. His hair was back, his sash was shiny. He looked pretty good.

Walked out of his room and looked at his son. "I don't know when I will be back tonight, so make sure you go to bed around twenty-two hundred hours?" He stated crisply, picking imaginary lint off of his chest.

"I don't see why you get to go to a party, and I still have to go to bed at my regular time!" Alexander whined.

"Because I am the father and you are the son! That is why! "

Alexander looked at him mutinously. "That sounds like a typical adult reason."

Worf looked at him. "I want you home so I don't have to worry about you. There maybe some fighting on board the ship tonight, and I want to know you are safe and sound, not traipsing all over the ship where you could get hurt. It is important that I know exactly where you are tonight. I may need your help, if I have to change quickly."

"All right. Are you taking MaH'delyna with you?" Alexander asked.

"Yes, I am." Worf was turning toward the door.

"That's good. I like her, Father. She's a good teacher. I also think she makes you happy." Alexander turned and walked out of the room.

Worf shook his head and walked out of his quarters. If one thing was for certain, MaH'delyna and her situation did not make him happy. He went up to deck six to where MaH'delyna was. As he was approaching her door, which had a guard posted at it, he ran across Deanna and Beverly leaving. They both looked resplendent in their formal gowns, Beverly in green and Deanna in deep purple. "Doctor, Counselor." He nodded at them.

"Why, Worf, you look very dapper. We hear you have a big date tonight." Beverly said with a peculiar smile on her face.

"It is not a date. I am taking MaH'delyna so will be protected." He corrected.,

Troi nodded. "So how many weapons do you have on you?" She asked.

"Including the thong in my hair? I could use it as a garrote." He joked, keeping his face straight.

"Why not?" Beverly asked.

"About seven. I am running a few short. I could have fit a phasor rifle under my sash, but I thought it showed just a bit too much. I prefer to conceal my weapons." He winced slightly at the innuendo after he said it.

Troi nodded. "Well, see you later, Worf." The two ladies walked off down the beige corridor, looking more like birds that Starfleet officers.

He finished his walk and nodded crisply to the security officer. He chimed on MaH'delyna's door, and entered when he heard her voice softly from the inside. In her quarters, the light was very dim and it took a few moments for him to adjust to the light. "MaH'delyna, are you in here?" He asked.

His question was answered a moment later when she entered her living room and walked toward him. His first thought was that someone had gilded her. From her neck to her feet she was covered in gold. Worf stood with his jaw on the floor as she walked closer and closer. He could see that the dress was actually made of tiny metal tiles, all linked together, so that they moved as she walked. She didn't look real.

"Hello Worf." She smiled.

He couldn't speak. The dress was absolutely amazing. It encased her like a sheath. She was completely covered, and yet- The gown left little to the imagination. Whoever had crafted this dress had been a master metal smith. "You look like a goddess." Worf whispered irrationally, almost worried that if he spoke to loudly she would vanish.

"Why, thank you. I am glad you like it!" MaH'delyna glowed. "You look handsome yourself."

He walked closer to her and touched her metal covered arm. The material had warmed to her body temperature, and he found it a remarkable sensation. He ran his fingers up the limb, to her neck to touch the tendrils of hair which had escaped the golden mesh net that encased her hair. He slipped his palm around to cup her neck and looked at her. He could see that there were tiny imprints in the tiles of the dress. "I have never seen, never met, anyone who compares to you. You outshine the stars." His voice was husky, and he looked intently into her eyes. "How do you feel?"

She glanced at him nervously. "I'm afraid, worried that I won't be able to stay in that room with all of those people, knowing Keth'ex and Lersash might be there."

"I won't let you out of my sight, MaH'delyna," He rasped huskily. "Little mother."

"What if I freeze. What if I go into the other place, Worf?" It was a half whispered plea.

"I have extreme faith that you won't, but if you do, I will beam you out of there. And don't think about them getting to you. I have enough security in the holodeck to make sure that nothing untoward happens tonight." He assured her.

"So what happens when we arrive?" She asked.

"Well, I have it timed things so that we will be close to the last people arriving. We enter, we mingle, we dance, we leave. Nothing will happen. This is mostly just to show our quarry that you are alive, and not a vegetable, which has been the general impression we have been giving to the general public." Worf told her gently, rubbing the back of her neck.

"Ah, to be bait." She smiled faintly, her eyes slowly closing as she leaned into hand. MaH'delyna sighed langerously as he worked his massage.

"If you don't want to do this, you can stay here." He whispered.

She looked at him, her brown eyes filling with fledgling confidence. "No. I have to do this. I can't be afraid for the rest of my life."

"Then, my lady, Would you do me the honor of attending the _NeH'sezv'ar_ Ball with me?" He bowed gallantly, breaking the mystical spell.

"With pleasure, Lieutenant Worf." She laughed.

Worf made a motion for her to proceed him and she did. His jaw hit the floor for a second time when he saw the back of the dress, or, he should have said, lack of back of the dress. With the exception of a small chain which held the shoulder in place, at the base of her neck, there was nothing there. The metal tiles formed a point at the very small of her back, leaving a triangular space exposing her rippled spine for all to see. From the base of her spine the dress hung straight to the floor, brushing it with the hem. He thought that he saw a slit, but he wasn't sure. He swallowed, and loosened the collar of his uniform with a finger. Why was it he felt the temperature in the room had increased by at least ten degrees?

"That is some dress!" He murmured, placing a hand on her bare skin as they went through the door.

"This is my oath taking dress. It was the only thing I had that was suitable for this sort of occasion. I didn't see anything in the replicators that I liked, and I have always been fond of this!" He could hear the smile in her voice. Why was it women instinctively knew when a man was uncomfortable?

They made their way down towards the holodeck, MaH'delyna attracting much attention from the staff walking in the corridors. On either side of the Holodeck doors stood two security men in full dress uniform. He nodded to them. "Has there been any trouble?" Worf asked.

"None at all, sir."

He nodded again, pleased, and held his elbow out for the golden klingon woman to take. "Is that dress made of gold?" He whispered in her ear.

"No, I believe it is pure Latinum." She looked coyly at the floor.

"The Ferengi delegation are going to have collective apoplexy." He countered, one eyebrow raised. He didn't want to think that her dress was probably worth as much as a Federation run-a-bout.

"Poor little men." She blinked innocently.

He rolled his eyes. "What force have I let loose on the world?" Worf asked with mock terror. "Shall we go in?" She nodded and they did.

The doors to the holodeck slid open to display a world of pure fantasy. A crystal bridge lead down from the open door to a crystal platform about fifty by fifty meters which hovered about twenty meters above a swirling green sea. The sky was dark, and stormy looking, with flashes of lightning close over head. There was a slight breeze, but it wasn't chilly, and in the air was the sound of a Federation band. About every five meters along the crystal platform were security guards in full dress uniform to help keep the revelers from 'falling over the side'. It was a breathtaking sight.

Worf heard MaH'delyna's intake of breath and said, "Do you like it?"

"It is wonderful, Worf! It is straight out of the _Kel'shar_ gospels. 'And Kahless rose from the stormy sea to lead our people to victory.'" She murmured.

He smiled at her wonderment and took her slowly down the bridge. Eyes turned their way as they walked, and a path began to appear in the throng. Picard, flanked by Gowron and Kurn appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

When they arrived at the bottom, Picard took MaH'delyna's hand and raised it elegantly to his lips. _"Qing_ MaH'delyna of SoS, I believe." He said warmly, with a smile.

"Captain Picard. I must thank you for all your kind hospitality during my stay on the Enterprise. I will never be able to repay you." She replied sincerely. Worf couldn't help but be proud of her. She was as cool and composed as a swan.

"Allow me to introduce you to Captain Kurn, the Klingon Foreign minister, and to Gowron, the Leader of the Klingon high council, and commander of the Klingon armada." Picard replied.

Worf looked at his brother. Kurn's eyes were round, and very surprised. "I am honored." Kurn said, moving his body into something resembling a bow.

It was the reaction in Gowron that surprised Worf the most. Gowron was splendid in his formal regalia. He looked like a klingon powerhouse, someone who the average person didn't want to mess with. He wore the caped jacket that was the symbol of his authority, and every piece of metal on it had been polished to an incredible shine. From his toes to his nose, he looked every inch a klingon Warrior. Gowron also looked like a pole axed cow. If Kurn's eyes were round, then Gowron's were saucers. He was extremely pale and he looked totally shocked. He blinked once, and then twice. His mouth worked, and finally the word "Amirabar!" came out.

"Yes, Gowron, I have returned. But I don't think I am Amirabar anymore. She grew up a long time ago." MaH'delyna said to Gowron. She turned to Picard. "Gowron used to call me Amirabar when I was but a child."

Picard nodded. Gowron just stood there. "It has been far to long, Amirabar." He rasped. "You don't know just how long I have waited for your return from the dead."

MaH'delyna looked at him sadly. "I am not the little girl who used to chase you around my father's estate. I have changed since then. Times have changed since then." Her voice brimmed with silent regret.

Gowron looked at her. "I don't care. I have waited twelve years for you. If you need time, I can give it. You are back . Everything is now the way it always should have been."

MaH'delyna's eyes widened as his words sunk in. Worf didn't want to hear what Gowron was saying, but he listened rapt, yet with every word a part of him died. "I don't know what to say." MaH'delyna breathed.

"Then say nothing at all. I know your answer. I can see it in your eyes. Things have been righted now, and time will progress as it was originally meant to." Gowron smiled. " You have my bond on that."

"I am flattered, Gowron." MaH'delyna replied, looking very concerned.

"Come with me, tonight, back to the planet. I can protect you much better from there." Gowron offered earnestly.

"I must stay on the Enterprise, Gowron. I have promises I, too, must keep. I cannot leave with you tonight." She replied. Worf felt a small part of him come back to life. Perhaps he did have a chance after all.

"I will not hear of it, but we can discuss things later. Perhaps discuss the past, and old promises, later. I cannot believe the girl who so teased me has grown into such an amazing woman." Gowron ran a gloved hand down her cheek. "You are like a creature out of the myths. a breath of air, and you will fade away. How I prayed for your return." He murmured softly. "You are glorious." Worf felt that Gowron was being far too possessive.

"Oh Gowron, I have missed you. There have been many times when I wished you would come and help me, and now you are here, I don't know what to think. This is all like a dream."

"No longer a dream, Amirabar. I am here, and no one is ever going to hurt you again. I always protect what is mine!"

MaH'delyna nodded. "I am glad you are here, Gowron. We do have much to discuss." Worf wondered what Gowron had meant by those last words. They could either be referring to the Latinum on SoS, or MaH'delyna, herself. He never hated Gowron as he did this moment. He was angry and horribly jealous. He could have committed murder.

"We shouldn't tie up MaH'delyna like this. There are many people who are interested meeting the survivor of SoS." The Captain interjected. Picard and Worf then began to maneuver her through the crowd. This was the best way for it to get back to their quarry that MaH'delyna had returned from the dead. They circulated around the room, slowly, everyone wanting to meet the beautiful and mysterious klingon woman from the place that was on almost everyone's lips.

The moment of reckoning came about an hour later when Keth'ex and Lersash maneuvered in front of them. Gowron, who had been following silently, bristled, as did Worf. Picard was very calm, as was MaH'delyna. Worf, who was still holding her hand, didn't feel her tense. She seemed as cool and unruffled on the inside as on the outside.

Keth'ex stared at her, his face limp with shock. "My daughter. You have returned!" He said looking completely ill.

MaH'delyna looked at the impostor, her face warm, but her eyes flat and totally devoid of any feeling. "Yes, father, I have. It has been too long since I saw you last. How time does stand still when we are separated from those who care for us." She said sweetly, making no move to touch him.

Keth'ex stared at her, and his piggish eyes calculating. His gaze darted between that of Gowron and Worf. Worf narrowed his eyes and stared at Keth'ex. He let one half of his face slide into a sardonic smile.

Lersash picked up the beat and walked over to her. He cupped her face with both hands and murmured to her, "Dearest child, how much your father has told me about you. You can't know what the past twelve years have been like for us, wanting to believe that you were alive. Now here you are. What an amazing thing. How ever did you survive?" He asked sweetly, but his eyes were narrowed and his nostrils flared, as he appeared to be inhaling her scent.

Worf took up the cue. "MaH'delyna has shown to be extremely resilient."

Keth'ex smiled. "What memories I have of you. And now, how you have changed. You look so different from the last time I saw you." Worf could see the panic in Keth'ex' eyes, and he wondered just how sane Keth'ex was.

MaH'delyna smiled. "Yes, I remember everything about our last meeting father. It was so tragic. I have longed to be near you again." To the casual observer, her words were warm, but to anyone who knew the real story, they were filled with bitter sarcasm. Worf inhaled deeply. She knew the game, and could she ever play it.

Gowron finally spoke up. "And isn't it amazing that she survived the Massacre. I hope that she may be able to shed some light on the situation." The klingon leader's words dripped with malice.

Worf nodded at Gowron. "She has told me the most amazing things, Gowron." He looked at Lersash. "The most amazing things."

Keth'ex paled, and nervously changed the subject. "I would imagine life in that primitive colony would be dreadfully dull."

"Oh no!" MaH'delyna said. "There were many interesting things on SoS." She looked at Lersash. "Especially in the trees." Her eyes burned.

Lersash's smile went sickly. "Different species of animals?"

"No. The animals on SoS walked on the ground and smelled like cowards." She hissed through her smile which brightened.

Gowron faced Worf. "Cowards." Gowron acted like he could taste the words." I like to hunt cowards. What about you, Worf."

"My favorite prey." Worf pulled on his beard speculatively. "What about you, Lersash?"

"Yes, I like the sound they make when they squeal for their lives. How they will promise anything to make the pain go away. I even enjoy-" Lersash stared at MaH'delyna and smiled cruelly. "I love the noises they make when I use them. The screaming, and the moaning, and the little rattling gurgle they make, right before they die!" Before Worf could do anything to stop him, Lersash snaked a hand MaH'delyna's neck and pulled her close to his body. With his other hand, he traced down the ridges of her forehead in a sick parody of a common gesture of klingon affection. "What do you think, _Qing_ DiH'Xang-MaH'delyna of SoS, have you ever heard anything like that before?" His last word came out sounding more like a sound of desire than a speech. He licked his lips slowly and bent closer to her ear. "Moaning," His hand trailed along her neck, "And crying," Then his fingers traced the line of her cleavage. "And begging."

Worf was so stricken, he was almost paralyzed. He looked at Gowron, who seemed equally as sickened. Worf could taste coppery blood in his mouth, as he ground his teeth into the side of his inner cheek. He was going to kill Lersash.

MaH'delyna came to her own rescue. With hard eyes, and a face of stone, she extricated her way out of Lersash's grasp." I would say that it takes a coward to know a coward. Men who torture the helpless aren't worthy of the knives they carry. Torture is a game played by those too weak to have real power."

Keth'ex looked up sharply. "Now daughter, don't antagonize your future mate. Lersash and I have agreed that the best way to cement our alliance is for you two to," he paused and smirked nastily, "Cleave to one another."

"You forget the law, Keth'ex, the female must consent. It is the law." Gowron snarled viciously, his hackles rising.

MaH'delyna's eyes bored into Keth'ex's. "I find myself disinclined to soil myself with your ally, Father." She said very quietly.

Picard stepped from the background, "Of course, MaH'delyna is more than welcome to remain on the Enterprise as long as she likes. We have found her to be a valuble asset to our compliment." A courus of 'No, that won't be necesarry's'came from Gowron, Keth'ex and Lersash. But Picard took MaH'delyna's hand and held it in his, looking into her eyes kindly. "Just so that you know you have the option."

Worf watched as Gowron turned his piercing gaze onto the Captain, and Worf knew that the high council leader was eyeing the Captain as an adversary.

The music struck up a klingon Dance called the Olax, which mimicked the courtship rituals of the ancient klingons. MaH'delyna turned suddenly to Worf. "My feet itch, and as my escort, you get my first dance."

He offered her his arm and lead her to the dance floor. They immediately began to whirl to the violent music. The Olax was one of the most explicit dances of the klingon culture. Worf wondered why she had chosen this route for her escape.

He held her hands and pulled her closer to him, gyrating to the music. Like an expert she writhed, trying to get out of his embrace. She moved around him, getting caught and getting away as the music ordered.

He grabbed her wrist and smelled up her arm, as the dance steps dictated and when he got to her ear he whispered, "Are you sure you know what you are doing, dancing this with me?"

She danced away from him, letting her hand trace down his arm to his wrist, where, in time to the beat, he grabbed her and dragged her back into his embrace. Once in his arms she made the sharp flinging motion that was to simulate striking him. "I wanted to dance this with you."

She twirled away, but he grasped her wrists and pulled her closer again. "You could have picked Gowron." He ran his hand down her back and they began the complex cha cha like steps, constantly making mock striking movements that the dance demanded.

She grabbed him by the neck, and answered him. "I wanted to dance with you." She let him pick her up and throw her into the air. He was amazed by her ability to perform this dance. He knew it was much like a mock battle, but there was a certain amount of skill involved. She knew the execution flawlessly.

"You have been practicing." He murmured as he ducked another blow. The music began to go even faster, more furious. He pulled her along his body and leaned back.

"No, I learned it on SoS." The dance was coming to it's end. He stopped talking. He knew that he had to throw her up in the air and catch her just before she hit the ground. It took timing and patience, or the female partner could be seriously hurt. He knew that the weight of her metal dress wouldn't make his task any easier. But then that is what made the dance so exciting. There was nothing like the underlying currents of danger to make something more enjoyable.

He grabbed her hips, and threw her spinning, high above his head, straight into the air. She manipulated herself so that she was falling on a diagonal. The music went wild. Had Worf been paying any attention he would have noticed that they were the only couple on the floor to do the proper ending. He was too busy. The rest were merely standing in awe.

She fell and he braced himself. Damn this starfleet uniform. She landed in his arms and arched backwards sharply as the music wound down. He lowered her so that her legs were on the floor, supporting her waist by one hand, and in the traditional ending he ran his hand from her neck to her legs.

Worf stared at her exultant face. They were magical together, or so he thought. He watched his hand as it traced it's path to the final strains of the music. Something caught his eye and he really looked at the tiles of the dress. He had noticed earlier that the tiles had little imprints in them, what he hadn't realized was that the imprints were a highly stylized form of klingon script, each tile a different letter. The dress was a message! He brought the hand that was on her legs to her stomach and tried to smooth the dress, but he couldn't understand quite what it said, the letters were all jumbled together. Many were numbers and he had a notion that they were coordinates to something.

"Uh, Worf, you can let me up now." MaH'delyna murmured. He ignored her and, again, tried to smooth the golden surface he was looking at. He tried to sound out the letters to no avail. He needed time to study this. "Worf, people are beginning to stare." She moved and he lost his train of thought. "Worf!"

He looked up at her. "This dress! This is Toloth's legacy. Every tile is a letter." He picked her up and scooped her into his arms. He laughed out loud. It was an almost gleeful sound. "You are wearing the key to the whole mystery on your back!" He strode with her towards the crystal bridge.

"What?" Her eyes widened, and she began to laugh with him.

The stunned throng cleared a path as he walked up the bridge, and through the Holodeck doors. He could feel the curious eyes of the security officers as he moved by, walking as straight as an arrow, with her limp in his arms. Her head rested on his chest, and she began to giggle into it. "I don't believe it!" She said. "It has been right here the entire time."

He nodded and made his way into her quarters. "I need to study that," He broke into laughter again." I need to study that dress. I don't believe it. That dress has been in your possession all along. Go change!"

"I am glad we left, but won't we get in trouble for leaving so abruptly?" MaH'delyna asked.

"I doubt it. Perhaps it was a tad flamboyant, but -"He shrugged. "Picard will know I had a good reason. Now, go change. I can't read that dress while you are inside of it. I wonder if there will be anyone in the science labs? I want to run a computer analysis on it." He looked at her. She still stood there with him, looking at him strangely. "What?" He asked.

She pulled him into the bedroom with her. "I need your help."

He froze, his gleeful mood gone. "I don't think that is such a good idea. I don't want things to get out of hand."

She looked into his eyes. "I don't think they will."

He looked at her warily. She purred at him, and he was lost. He grabbed her wrists and brought her closer. "Are you sure you want this?"

"You aren't going to take advantage of me, if that is what you are asking. I want this as much as you do. I am yours. You are my hero. I have for a very long time." Her eyes shone.

"I don't think that this is the best time." Worf replied, trying to keep his whirling emotions in order. His throat was completely dry.

"There will never be a better time. I need this. I need you." She traced a finger down his face. "Don't you want this?" MaH'delyna asked softly, seeming almost unsure of herself.

"More than you can possible imagine!" He rasped.

She wrapped her golden arms around and looked up at him with her liquid eyes. He lost his control and growled at her. "We are going to regret this." He said through gritted teeth.

"Worf, I will never regret this. If the world considers this wrong, then the universe is wrong, and this is right. Love me, Worf." She whispered silkily to him. "Love me."

As he slowly undid the chain at the back of her neck, and as he felt the heat of her body radiating from her body, he thought to himself, ' _I already do_.'


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**

Worf came awake to the sound of his communicator pin beeping, "Lt. Worf, would you please report to my ready room." Picard's voice was loud in the silent room.

He was disoriented for a minute, awake in a strange bed, but memory flooded back and he disentangled himself from MaH'delyna to grab his uniform jacket. "Aye sir." Worf answered groggily. He looked at MaH'delyna who lay curled up by his side. He tried to get up without waking her but he was unsuccessful.

She opened an eye and smiled at him." Good Morning, Worf!" She murmured sleepily.

He ran his fingers through her long hair. "Hello my beautiful princess." He said. She looked wonderful, all tousled and sleepy. "I have to go see the Captain, but I will be back as soon as I possibly can." He told her regretfully.

She yawned. "I'll make breakfast. Hurry. I will miss you." She made a little moue. "I miss you already."

He got up, and groped around for the rest of his uniform so that he could dress. "Picard had better have a really good reason for this." He grunted. The only thing he had to wear was his dress uniform. He put it on. Thankfully, it wasn't too wrinkled, or torn, for that matter. "I wish I could stay here with you."

MaH'delyna stretched langerously and looked at him. "I know you do, I understand that your first duty is to your Captain, and to your ship." She said kindly. "As unconventional as I am, I do understand duty."

He finished doing up the closure at his neck. "There is nothing more important in the entire universe than you, MaH'delyna. You are my world." He embraced her and rubbed his cheek against his forehead.

She put her arms around his waist and then released him. "Go, so that you can come back to me. I will be waiting. What do you want to eat?"

He threw on his sash. "Anything. I must go." He caught his hair back in his thong. He turned to go, was half way out of the room, and then went back to her. He caressed her cheek. "I will make this up to you later!" He searched her face, memorizing every detail. "You have my vow."

He left reluctantly and headed up to the bridge. On his way out of her quarters he looked to make sure that Ensign Gallager was on duty out side MaH'delyna's door. When he arrived he quickly noticed that none of the senior officers were on duty. They were probably all sleeping, Worf thought as he entered Picard's office at the Captains bidding. Picard was in his regular uniform and, as usual, he was drinking his tea. "You called me, sir."

"Ah, Mr. Worf. No need to be so formal." Picard said wryly, looking at Worf's rumpled uniform.

"I had no opportunity to change before you summoned me." Worf grumbled.

Picard smiled. "Last night went very well. Kahless called me this morning to tell me that the Empire will think of the Federation with honor for our respectful tribute to their festival."

Worf wondered if this was all that Picard had to say. Somehow he doubted it. "I am glad that the evening went smoothly."

Picard glanced at him. "Well, I wouldn't say that, Mr. Worf. Gowron was very angry when you took MaH'delyna away. Why did you see fit to remove her from the ball?"

"I found the proof to our mystery, I was working to decipher it when you called. The dress MaH'delyna wore last night was constructed from tiny latinum tiles. Imprinted on each of the tiles is a letter and they appear to give coordinates to something. I believe when I know what the dress says I will find the answers I have been seeking. I took MaH'delyna away because I didn't want anyone else to see the dress until I figured out what it said." Worf explained.

"I understand. I told Gowron there was problem. Especially after Lersash's outburst last night." Picard said.

"Gowron was being insufferable." Worf muttered under his breath.

Picard ignored that. "I found out from Kahless why the festival date was moved up. It seems that Gowron has made interesting plans for a week tomorrow and he needs to give exactly a week's notice to the council for his plan."

"Which is?"

"The leader of the high council must inform the other members of the high council a week before he takes a consort so that her background can can be investigated as to her suitability. A week from tomorrow is the celebration of the Empire. Gowron apparently wants it to be his wedding day as well. Kahless said that there is a myth that if the Emperor takes the oath on that day, he and his consort will rule forever." Picard stated crisply.

Worf felt the strength drain out of him. "No!" He gasped. He felt like a hole had been blown in his chest. MaH'delyna was his, and there was no one who was going to take her from him, not now. Not after last night. He would never let Gowron have her. "I can't allow it! Anyway, Gowron isn't the emporer"

Picard rubbed his face with his hand. "There is nothing that you can do about it, if MaH'delyna wants Gowron for a mate."

Worf crossed his arms across his chest. "I have a strong idea she doesn't but he might coerce her. This is just what I feared."

"Well, she has to assent to it," Picard shrugged. "Oh, Lieutenant LaForge went in a shuttle to get General Tyng from the USS Transverse. They should be back sometime tomorrow afternoon."

"Well, that is good to hear. I was worried the change in schedule would make it impossible to get the General." Worf said.

Picard stood. "Is there anything that you want to tell me, Worf?"

"No Sir. I-" His words were cut off suddenly.

"Tactical to Picard. Sir, there has been a report of a phasor blast on deck six. Should I send a security team?" A disembodied voice asked.

Deck six. That was where MaH'delyna was. He looked at Picard. "She's on deck six." Fear, pure and unadulterated, blossomed throughout his body.

Picard nodded. "Lt. Worf and I will check it out. Yes, do send a security team. Worf, let's go!" They raced out of the ready room and onto the bridge. They hit the turbolift and were out again within a minute. Worf raced down the hall at a dead run. He knew this was an attack on MaH'Delyna.

He stopped his run just before her door and that he was right when he saw that Ensign Gallager was not outside the door. The door was locked. "Security override, Worf Alpha five." The door slide open and Worf entered. The room was a shambles. MaH'delyna's canvases were overturned and her vases of flowers were broken, as was the glass eating table. Worf took a quick look around, saw that MaH'delyna was nowhere in the room. He saw that Picard was looking after Gallager who was laying in a slump in a corner, and was moving to assist the captain when he heard a choked sigh coming from the sleeping chamber.

Worf entered the bedroom, hoping to find MaH'delyna still alive. His prayer was answered, but he didn't have much time. A klingon Warrior had her shoved up against the wall, and was trying to garrote her. He had his knee pressed into her back and he was pulling her against his body. Worf could see the blood running down her neck, but he also saw that she had part of her hand under the wire. MaH'delyna's struggles were weak and he could see that she was barely able to keep herself alive.

Worf was on the klingon in a second. The intruder wasn't surprised but it took him a moment to release his garrote and throw MaH'delyna on the ground. She slumped down and her hands fell away from her throat, but Worf was too busy to notice. He plunged his fists into the intruder, fighting like a berserker, pummeling the evil klingon over and over.

The warrior was unable to defend himself against Worf's onslaught. He managed a few hits on Worf, but Worf did not feel them. The warrior went down. Worf's bloodlust wasn't complete. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into the skull of the intruder. The klingon's head snapped back and the room was filled with the ominous sound of snapping bones.

Worf bounded over to MaH'delyna. She was bleeding profusely from a viscous slash in her neck. Blood pooled everywhere. Worf put his fingers into the wound trying to staunch the magenta tide. Her thick klingon blood, covered Worf, and was spilling onto the floor. As her heartbeat lessoned, so did the pressure against his hand.

"Captain! Call sickbay." He screamed. His hands were slippery with her blood. "MaH'delyna! Wake up! Please!" He had a vision of Ke'lahr's death, it was similar to this. Keh'lyr died in his arms. He was determined not to let MaH'delyna die as well.

Picard entered the room. "They are on their way already-" His words were cut off when he saw the scene in the room. "Oh dear God." He muttered, and knelt down in an effort to assist Worf.

MaH'delyna opened her eyes. "Worf," She gasped. A small trail of blood ran from her mouth, across her cheek, and into her hair, the blood around her neck foaming with each breath.

"You are going to be all right!" He said urgently, trying to push his fingers into the wound, trying desperately to staunch the blood.

"Worf, you have to let me die!" She gurgled.

"No!" He shouted. "I am never going to let you go!"

She tried to shake her head, but he wouldn't let her. "No, Worf. YOU have to let me die."

Sadly, he understood what she meant. "Please don't leave me, little mother." He tightened his arms around her body as she began to shiver. Where the hell was the doctor?

She coughed, a horrible gurgling sound. "I won't be far, Worf. I'll wait for you!" She croaked, and coughed again. The shaking in her body slowly subsided, and Worf watched as her eyes rolled back into her head, and felt her body go limp. He threw his head back and howled his anguish.

Gowron stormed into sickbay, his entourage struggling to keep up. Worf winced. This was going to be bad. He knew he looked terrible, as he was still wearing his bloodstained formal uniform. This was not going to be easy. "WORF! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!" Gowron screamed.

Picard stepped forward. "Gowron, this has been a terrible tradgedy, and we will find out exactly what happened; however, it was not Lieutenant Worf's fault." The captain said calmly.

Gowron walked past Picard, ignoring him. He marched straight up to Worf. "I give you this one opportunity to tell me she is not dead before I kill you." He growled.

"She is dead, Gowron. I take full responsibility for the attack against her myself. I am at fault." Worf replied. "I was not where I should have been. I am to blame." He seriously hoped that Gowron wouldn't go through with his threat. He didn't want to fight the Klingon Leader if he could possibly avoid it. It was not a good time for either of them.

"Damn right you take responsibility for the attack. You told me you could protect her. Some warrior you are! You are nothing but an oozing piece of Kreel slime." Gowron spat.

Worf bristled, and crossed his arms. "How do I know you did not send the man who killed her, Gowron. Is this just a show?"

Gowron drew his dagger and was about to skewer Worf when six starfleet security guards materialized and surrounded Gowron. "How dare you! you _Ha'di'baH!_ I will see you and your house destroyed for this, Worf! I will destroy you!" Gowron yelled, shaking with inhuman fury.

Worf inhaled and yelled back. "Why should you care if she is dead, Gowron? Why should you even care who killed her! You profit from it! Now SoS is yours! All yours. She is dead, and there is nothing I can do to stop the transfer of SoS into your hands. You have your planet. Now GET OFF THIS SHIP!" Worf realized that he was being presumptuous in saying such a thing, but he knew what he had to do.

"You honestly think I would kill the woman I have been waiting twelve years to marry for a minor planet?" Gowron bellowed.

"Words are cheap now!" Worf snarled. The words were followed by a pregnant silence.

Gowron turned, then slowly pivoted back to slam his fist into Worf's face. Worf ducked the blow to hit Gowron in the Stomach. Gowron bashed him in the side of the head.

Picard and the security officers stepped in. "STOP THAT!" He pulled Worf away while Gowron's body Guards held onto the Klingon leader. Picard moved in front of the struggling Klingon. "I don't care what your position is on your homeworld, but on this ship I am in charge, and I don't have to let you see the body unless I choose to." He turned to Worf. "And this incident is going on your record. Any more of this and you will be court-martialed!"

Worf widened his eyes. He felt sick. He stopped his pulling. Gowron also stayed silent and stopped struggling. Gowron sighed defeatedly. "Let me see her, Picard. Let me say good-by. Let me see that there will be no coming back for her this time."

Picard nodded curtly and walked into the intensive care room. Worf and Gowron followed him, eyeing each other distastefully. Beverly Crusher sat at the far end of the room, but when she saw them, she got up and came over to the biobed. She gently pulled back the shroud, and stood with her hands behind her back. "What a waste." She murmured.

MaH'delyna lay there, peaceful in death. Her face pale due to the blood she had lost, and the slash which killed her lay healed, only a slight pink line showed. Worf looked at Gowron whose face was bloodless. The klingon was making small choking sounds in the back of his throat.

Beverly produced a PADD and showed it to Gowron. "The death certificate. She was what we call a DOA. Dead on arrival. She passed away at nine-forty seven this morning." The doctor said flatly.

"May I have some time alone with her?" Gowron whispered.

Picard nodded. He, Beverly, and Worf turned to leave. Worf heard Gowron behind him. "No, Worf, not you. I want to talk to you."

Worf looked at Picard who nodded curtly. Worf walked to the bed. "What do you want, Gowron?" Worf asked.

"Did you ever stop to consider just how frail life is?" Gowron reached over with a tentative hand and brushed MaH'delyna's cheek. "Just last night she was so alive, so bright and warm, and so very alive, and now she is so cold, lying there. So cold."

"I understand how you feel." Worf murmured.

"I want the body, Worf. I want to take it back to Qronos and build her the biggest tomb in klingon history. I want her name to be on every person's lips, and I don't ever want her to be forgotten." Gowron said passionately, his voice growing louder with every word.

Worf looked at him. He didn't like himself for what he said, but he had to sound out the situation. He had to get inside Gowron's mind and find out if Gowron had sent the murderer. "Isn't that a bit excessive? She was just a woman, and, now, merely a body, just left over cytoplasm."

Gowron rounded on Worf. "She was not just any woman! She was the woman that I wanted. I intended to take the oath with her, Worf. I was going to make her my queen! There is nothing that I won't do for her. I will spend the rest of my days in anguish for trusting you with her safety." Gowron hissed brokenly. He turned back to the body. "I told her that she was going to be safe. I gave her my bond. I failed."

"It is my fault, Gowron. I was not careful enough. I should have not let her out of my sight." Worf replied quietly.

"I was supposed to be her promised. Do you know just how many times I was not there for her? I wasn't there for her when she lost her mother and brother. I wasn't there when she was raped and brutalized on SOS. I wasn't there for her when she died. I failed her, the ultimate failure." Gowron inhaled deeply, and then exhaled slowly. "I have failed."

Worf knew that Gowron wasn't lying. He had broken a cardinal rule by admitting to another klingon that he was a failure. Gowron truly had no involvement with the death of MaH'delyna. He wouldn't dishonor himself with what he was saying if he was not guilty. He knew what he needed to know. "I share your shame." Worf whispered quietly.

"I am sure you did what you could." Gowron sighed. "You couldn't keep her in a cage. Not that I wouldn't have, mind you. I am not forgiving you, but I understand." Gowron ran his fingers along the ridges on MaH'delyna's forehead. "Your doctor was right. What a waste. What a terrible waste. There will never be another like her. She was the only Woman that I ever wanted. She was mine."

"Did you really know her, Gowron? You hadn't seen her in twelve years." Worf stated.

Gowron turned to him again. "When I found out that she was on SoS, I found out everything that had happened to her. I know everything that she did when she was gone. I had spies, and not a month went by that I didn't receive some report from somebody about her status, so yes, Worf. I did know her. I knew everything there was to know about her. " He said. "And now she is gone. I just can't believe it. I see her lying there, dead and alone. Did she die alone, Worf?"

"No, Gowron, the captain and I were there. She didn't die alone."

Gowron looked hesitant. "Did she die well?"

Worf stared at him for a moment. "She died like a warrior, Gowron. Fighting to the end, but there was nothing left in her. Her body couldn't fight anymore." Worf felt his throat constrict, a huge knot was forming in the base of his windpipe, and there was nothing he could do to get rid of it.

"I am glad that she didn't die alone. She was alone much of her life. I am glad she didn't die alone." Gowron traced the line on her throat. "A delicate wound to kill a delicate woman. It is strange. You would think that a wound would have to be ugly to kill someone. Only the Feklyr knows how many people I have killed in my time, and I know I will kill many more, but I never quite realized just how ugly death is. This wound is so clean. What killed her, Worf?"

"It was a garrote, Gowron."

"Is the perpetrator dead?"

"I killed him myself." Worf murmured.

"That is something else I will never forgive you for. I would have savoured killing him myself." Gowron said.

"I do not regret killing him. The people that we have to find are the men who sent him." Worf stated.

"Keth'ex, and Lersash." Gowron nodded.

"The dress that MaH'delyna was wearing last night has a message in it. When I have deciphered it, do you want to go hunting with me?" Worf asked, holding out his hand.

"I would be honored." Gowron shook Worf's hand. "I don't forgive you, but I don't think that I am going to kill you, either."

"Then we will kill them together."

Gowron nodded then through back his head and screamed discordantly. Worf joined Gowron in the death howl. Together, they almost shook the room, each screaming for their own reason, releasing their agony. Worf could hear the klingons in the other room had also joined in the shout.

Then it ended as abruptly as it began. Gowron bent to MaH'delyna, brushed his lips across her brow and swept from the room. Worf stood there while Gowron talked to picard, and then left. Worf looked at MaH'delyna. Despite her frozen state, he could see moisture run from her eyes

Beverly bustled into the room, a hypo in hand. . "I thought he would never leave. The stasis has been wearing out for three minutes now. I knew that I should never have agreed to this. Putting someone so freshly out of surgery into stasis like that is incredibly dangerous. I don't even recommend it for healthy and uninjured people!" She put the hypo into MaH'delyna's neck and then snapped her fingers. "MaH'delyna, can you hear me?"

The klingon woman's chest heaved abruptly. She breathed again and again. She opened her eyes, and slowly rose. "I never comprehended how he felt. I never knew!"

"I am sure he didn't know you were dead, which leaves us back with Keth'ex and Lersash." Worf said.

"Then we had better get to work on the dress." She answered bravely.

In front of Beverly he touched MaH'delyna on her face. "I can't believe how close I came to loosing you." He said quietly in klingon.

"Don't think about it, Worf. I'm alive." She smiled at him. "You promised me you would keep me alive, and you did. You are my hero." Her eyes devoured him.

He hauled her over and hugged her close. "I am not going to let you get hurt again!" He vowed. "I never want to be where Gowron is right now. Mourning the woman he loves."


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**

"I don't believe it! This is a letter!" Worf exclaimed surprised.

"It would appear so, Lt. Worf." Data said. The android picked up the dress. "The message starts at the neck, finishes near the waist, and starts up again. It repeats all over the dress. I am curious as to why the creator used a dress to leave a message like this behind?"

MaH'delyna entered Worf's office. She looked rather tired. "Actually, that doesn't surprise me at all, the more that I think about it. That dress is an heirloom. It would never have been destroyed or melted down, so the message would have stayed preserved for an eternity. I think Toloth did it that way so the message would always be there for me, or someone else to find." She shook her hair, which for once wasn't tied back in any way. Worf was surprised to see that it went down close to her knees.

Worf looked at her from across his desk. "Do you think that Toloth knew what it said?"

She shook her head. "No. The SoSian alphabet was completely different from the modern Klingon alphabet. There was no way Toloth could have known what it said. Nor I, for that matter, I very quickly forgot my high Klingon."

Data cocked his head to one side. "How did he know it was important? How did he know he was to give it to you?"

MaH'delyna shrugged. "I have no idea. I guess my mother lived longer than I thought. She wouldn't have been able to understand the people on SoS, and they wouldn't have been able to understand her. Maybe she wrote something down hoping that the SoSian people would understand written word. Toloth must have realized it was important and kept the message. It is traditional for a female on SoS to have a family member present when she takes the oath, perhaps in his mind he thought having the writings of a family member would suffice for me." She touched the dress, a far away look in her eyes.

"Even though he did not understand the message, he told his metal smiths to copy the symbols onto the squares. Similar to the dark ages scribes on Earth. They did not understand what it was they were transcribing, they merely copied the symbols down." Data finished.

Worf looked over at Data. "That would explain why many of the letters are strangely written, and badly formed."

MaH'delyna glanced at Worf. "What does it say?" She traced a tile with her finger. "My grasp of the klingon alphabet is still rusty to say the least.

Worf picked up the PADD on his desk, prepared to give it to MaH'delyna. "Are you sure you don't want to read it yourself?" He assumed with something like this, she would want to read it herself.

"No, Worf. Read it to me." She said, staring a the tiles.

He hit a few buttons on the PADD. "DiH'Xang, Daughter, avenge us all. Go to the _Fek'lhr,_ forty degrees south, twenty paws. Die with honor." He finished.

"We have run every reference to the klingon demon, the _Fek'lhr_ and have turned up nothing." Data added.

"Do you know what it means, MaH'delyna?" Worf asked.

She got up and walked around the room for a moment, tapping her lips with her finger. "The _Fek'lhr._ The _Fek'lhr!"_ Her eyes widened. "It does make sense! Or at least I think it does. I don't believe it!"

"How?" Worf asked. He had been wondering about this reference to the _Fek'lhr_ since he had found it. People didn't invoke the name of the _Fek'lhr_ at the drop of a hat.

She stopped behind him and put her hands on on his shoulders. "Near my father's house there is a huge piece of land owned by the guardians. Is it still their? It is in the _GaktoH_ section of the capital. You know..?" She made a rolling motion with one hand.

Data looked at her. "I do not know."

Worf thought about it for a moment. "The Plaza of the Damned? Isn't that the place where Kahless supposedly killed the leaders of the revolution of _Tezmar?"_

She nodded. "Yes, that's it! My mother and father used to take me there for walks when I was small. I went there once without them, when I was very young. Anyway, my father and his warriors eventually found me curled up under this huge tree. I remember my father saying to me that if I ever went there without him, the _Fek'lhr_ would find me and eat me. I must have been to young to understand what he meant, because I always thought he was calling the tree the _Fek'lhr._ Whenever we went there afterwards, I would always ask my parents if we could go and visit the _Fek'lhr,_ meaning that tree. It eventually became my family's favorite spot to go when my father wasn't in council meetings." She smiled at the memory.

"In other words, the proof that Lersash has been looking for, and that he killed for, has been under his nose for the last twelve years?" Worf said, amused. "Right across the street from Keth'ex's compound."

"It would seem so!" MaH'delyna replied.

"What are paws? In the reference of twenty paws." Data asked.

"My mother used to accuse me of having filthy feet or paws when I was a child. I wasn't all that fond of shoes. I would assume twenty paws means something along the lines of twenty foot lengths." she explained.

"What time is it in the Capital city, Data?" Worf asked.

"It is Zero-thirthy."

This would be a perfect time to go down there and take a look." Worf said to the Android.

"I am coming with you, Worf." MaH'delyna interjected quietly.

"No, you aren't!" Worf answered, firmly putting his hands on her shoulders. "I didn't go to all the trouble of having you die to have you be seen in the city. The plaza is right across from Keth'ex's residence."

MaH'delyna put her hands on her hips. "How are you going to find one specific tree in an entire plaza?"

Data looked at Worf. "She does have a point."

Worf rolled his eyes. "Thanks." He said flatly to Data.

"I wonder what the weather is like?" MaH'delyna said aloud.

"When I was last on the bridge, the entire city was covered by a thunderstorm." Data told her.

Worf was dead set against her joining them, but it appeared he had no choice. "I don't like it. I don't like it at all."

MaH'delyna turned to Worf. "We can't put this off! Tomorrow afternoon Gowron intends to challenge Lersash, proof or not. You told me yourself. I have to find out the truth, before I 'return from the dead' to accuse Keth'ex of being an impostor." She urged. She wound her hair up and deftly pinned it on the top of her head.

He clamped down on his teeth. "I already agreed." He snarled before he tapped on his communicator badge. "Worf to Picard, I request permission to take Data and MaH'delyna down to the capital city to go fins our proof."

There was a moment of silence. "You have my permission. Are you sure that taking MaH'delyna is such a good idea?" Picard's voice floated through the air.

"We have no choice, Sir." Data said. "We will not be able to find the evidence without her guidance."

"All right. Good hunting. Picard out."

They went to the transporter room, where they replicated proper rain gear, lights, and three shovels. "I don't want to dig with my hands, and I have a feeling we will be digging." Worf said. He also handed Data a phasor, and he attached one to his belt. "Let's not turn our light's on until we are far into the grove."

"How big is this park?" Data asked.

Worf blinked. For once, Data didn't know all the answers. "It is about a square kilometer. It was been left alone since the guardians bought the land, and is very overgrown."

Data gave the coordinates to the transporter chief and followed the two klingons onto the platform. Worf shivered as the transporter moved him down to the planet. They rematerialized at the entrance to the Plaza of the damned. The rain pelted them viciously, and every few minutes lightning flashed and thunder boomed across the sky. Their rain gear kept them dry, and as the rains were very warm, the air was very hot and humid.

"This place has changed!" MaH'delyna yelled above the storm. She entered the wooded grove quickly, not turning to look at the compound which used to be her home.

The lightning flashed, lighting up the grove. It looked like the twisted hell of a forest gone mad. Many of the trees looked liked figures swaying in the winds, their twisted gnarled branches flailing. Worf felt a sliver of trepidation run up his spine. He didn't like this. He felt there was something wrong.

He looked forward to see MaH'delyna forging ahead, Data was behind her. He caught up to MaH'delyna and shouted. "Be careful. We don't know who could be about. This used to be a favored place to come and duel." The wind shrieked angrily through the trees.

She nodded. "I will." She bellowed over the thunder.

They passed the memorial of where Kahless killed the revolutionaries. The tall metal obelisk gleamed malevolently in the lightning. The obelisk sounded like a mourning bell as the rain struck it, the low pounding noise a haunting undertone to the thunder. Worf stepped over a small river, and clamped his teeth together as he realized the ground was slowly turning into a swamp. The mud even covered over his boots in spots. He didn't like the look of the situation. If they had to do any digging, it would be very messy, but at least the rain concealed them.

MaH'delyna turned and pointed at a huge tree. "That's the _Fek'lhr!"_ She shouted. Worf looked at the tree that she was pointing at. It certainly looked like the klingon demon in this weather. It was huge, it's bark had huge creases in it, and it's skeletal branches clawed unmercifully at the air.

Data pulled out his tricorder, and walked over to the tree. He moved and then stopped. "This is forty degrees south."

MaH'delyna put her back up against the tree, and making heel-toe steps moved forward in the direction Data indicated. She counted to twenty, before halting. She was about three meters from the _Fek'lhr_ tree, on a small knoll. "This is it!" She called loudly. Her hair had been partially ripped out of it's bun, and the sodded tendrils ripped wildly around her head.

Worf couldn't shake the feeling that someone was following them, but he blamed it on the storm. The wind had picked up even more, and the branches seemed to be clamoring for trio. Worf shined his light on the spot where she stood. "Data! Do you read anything under there?" He roared.

Data knelt and ran his tricorder over the moist ground. The lightning forked across the sky so often it seemed like the android was moving in slow motion. The sky growled incessantly with the sound of thunder. "About a meter under the surface there is a xanthium storage box, about two point six meters by point seven five meters, and about one point five meters deep." He vocalized.

Worf was looking at the ground when out of the corner of his eye he saw something move. He grabbed his phasor fired blindly into the night. A huge wild _Targ_ came charging out of the brush at them. Worf took aim and fired again. The animal screamed and fell twitching to the ground, it's dead body sinking slightly into the mud.

Worf tossed the other two a shovel each and they all began to dig. The rain turned the newly exposed dirt to mud, and as they dug their hole, it slowly filled with water and swampy earth. The combination of mud and water made the ground very unstable. When the hole was about a meter deep, the embankment they had created crumbled, taking MaH'delyna with it. She shrieked with surprise as she fell sliding down below the mud level. Worf and Data both jumped in and pulled their arms through the mud to find her. They grabbed her at the same time and hauled her choking form onto some semi solid land. She coughed and pulled herself to her feet.

Worf crawled out of the hole and passed MaH'delyna her shovel. "Be careful!" He growled loudly.

She nodded, "I'll try!" and they both went back to their digging.

The lightning silhouetted them as they toiled, and the rain only worsened. Worf thanked his lucky star that it wasn't hailing. About an hour and a half later they had most of the metal chest uncovered. Worf was reluctant to open it because he didn't want the contents to be damaged by the water and mud. "Data, can you tell what is inside?" He yelled.

"No, lieutenant. Xanthium is impenetrable to any kind of sensor device." The lieutenant commander yelled.

"What do we do now?" MaH'delyna screamed.

Worf made an upwards movement. "Back to the ship!" He answered. He would be happy to be out of here. He felt guilty about killing the animal, and angry at his loss of control.

Data hit his badge. "Data to Enterprise, three and a piece of Cargo to beam to Cargo bay three." He said. A minute later they were gone.

Worf quickly shed his rain gear when they reappeared in the Cargo Bay. He looked at the box. It was pockmarked with corrosion. On one corner a blinking light indicated that the box had been vacuum sealed. "Worf to Picard. We have retrieved a rather large metal container. Would you like us to wait for you to open it?"

"I am on my way, Mr. Worf. Yes, please wait."

Worf helped MaH'delyna out of her rain gear. "You're filthy." He said softly, looking at her mud filled hair.

MaH'delyna looked at him, her eyes going from his head slowly down to his toes. "You don't look so clean yourself." Her voice was deep and gravely from the shouting on the planet below.

"Can I scrub your back later?" He purred into her ear.

MaH'delyna's eyes gleamed mischievously. "If I don't get a better offer!" She quipped.

His jaw dropped and he blinked. Worf realized it would be a good time to change the subject. "Your mother picked a really nice place to hide this. I wonder what is inside?" He asked.

"It was a rather clever hiding place. It was somewhere only I know about." She said, walking around.

"Yes, but if anyone else stumbled across the message in the dress, the mystery would have remained unsolved forever." Worf pointed out.

MaH'delyna nodded. "True, but then, someone did." She worked at squeezing the water from her hair. "I don't worry about things like that, Worf. Answers to questions are always found, even if they aren't what one wants to hear."

Picard and Riker whisked into the cargo bay. Riker looked at Worf and Data. "That it?" He said, looking with amazement at their booty.

Data nodded. "It would seem so, Sir."

Worf walked over and looked at the locking mechanism. It wasn't very sophisticated, and to his complete surprise it wasn't even armed. He hit a button, and with a discordant screech the cover of the box rolled back. He was completely astounded by what he saw.

MaH'delyna gasped and moved to his side. "Father!"

"It seems we have our proof about Keth'ex!" Riker said in awe.

Inside the box lay the mummified body of the Klingon high councilor. Keth'ex was dressed his battle armor, which did not hide the horrendous gaping wound in his throat. His face was twisted horribly, he had obviously died in much pain. The skin on his face was brittle and leathery looking; his withered, unseeing eyes had sunk deep into their sockets. It was clear that Keth'ex had been dead a long time because of the dessication of his body and of the musty, moldering smell which rose from the container. Spread out over the body, like a shroud, appeared to be a banner of the Klingon Empire, and on top of the that lay several memory chips that Worf suspected held the answers.

MaH'delyna walked over the the box and fell to her knees beside it. "Father!" She breathed. She reached in and grasped the mummies brittle hand. "I always dreamed you would come and find me, Father. Why did it have to be the other way?" She pressed her forehead into the blackened bony claw.

Data ran his tricorder over the body. "Keth'ex has been dead for twelve years; cause of death due to extreme blood loss. The wound appears to have been made by a wire garrote."

"Same weapon used by our mystery attacker." Picard looked at Worf.

Worf put his hands on MaH'delyna's shoulders. "He was ambushed. I am sure he died bravely."

MaH'delyna glared fiercely at Worf. "Here is my evidence. My father's corpse. There can be no doubt in anyone's mind, now!" She hissed forcefully.

Riker picked up one of the memory chips. "You have an interesting night ahead of you, Worf. I am sure these will tell you what you need to know!"

Worf nodded. "I, too, am sure."

MaH'delyna put the hand back in the casket. "I wonder when it happened. Worf, do you think the impostor had taken my father's place the last time I saw him?"

"I don't know. I'm fairly sure the impostor would have assumed Keth'ex's identity immediately after killing him, which would mean whoever the impostor is, he has been Keth'ex for at least twelve years. Maybe more. This does explain much though. General Tyng was right when he accused Keth'ex of being an impostor. I why Keth'ex just didn't kill Tyng outright?"

Picard spoke up. "That would have been to obvious. Had Tyng died, there might have been questions about what Tyng had to say, and people would suspect he had been correct. Tyng was denounced as a madman. What klingon would believe a madman?"

MaH'delyna reached around the casket. She gently lifted up the body and lifted out a _batlh'etlh_. It was an old looking weapon for the inscriptions on the blade were in a long forgotten dialect. Mounted in the blade were four shining stones. "This has been in my family for many generations. Every time a member of my family has been the leader of the high council, another _Gli'zir_ stone has been added to the blade. The first one was mounted for DiX'oX-MaH'drang, the very first leader of the council." She held the sword like one born to it. "It's called the Summer Sword. This is how I knew the impostor was not my father. My father never let this out of his sight. It was his pride. He once told me that this _batlh'etlh_ was THE honor of our family, and must never be hidden. It received it's name because of a family legend which states if the sword ever fell into darkness, then a reign of desolation would reign over our house. Dishonor and despair would stay until the sword was rediscovered, causing Winter to pass, and Summer to come," She paused. "I guess the legend was true."

Worf looked at the sword. It was a magnificent weapon. It was beautifully crafted and probably as old or older than the one that he carried. "The sword of honor is exactly that, MaH'delyna. It is the symbol of the honor of a klingon house."

She held the sword aloft. "With this sword, I will have my revenge. First I will kill Lersash, and then Keth'ex, and I won't stop until they, and their minions are dead. Every klingon who dishonored me, my house, and my family will pay! Then, my father's name will be avenged, and my vengeance will be complete!" She growled fiercely.

Worf looked at her, standing proud, and unafraid. It was as if seeing her father had given her the strength she needed to go on. The strength to fight. He put his arms on her shoulders. "May the house of Keth'ex rise from the treachery that has engulfed it, and blaze a trail of glory across the universe such as the stars have never seen before!" Worf replied in the traditional manner. He saw that Picard and Riker were staring at MaH'delyna as if she had suddenly grown two heads. Humans had such a limited understanding of the finer points of vengeance.

She turned and smiled at Worf, the fiery Valkyrie gone. "But before vengeance, comes research. We have to find out what those chips say, and we have only tonight to do it."

Picard looked relieved. "I would much rather that you got your revenge legally, as opposed to murdering Lersash and Keth'ex, not that I would blame you if you did."

MaH'delyna looked very directly at Picard. "I know enough of imperial law to know I have the right to have Lersash and every member of Lersash's family butchered for his rape of me. And as for the impostor, I can arrange for his family to be slaughtered and his entire line exiled from the empire forever."

"I know klingon law, MaH'delyna." Picard said.

She smiled faintly. "I know that too . I don't intend to take such direct measures. When it comes right down to it, I don't particularly like killing. I have seen too much death in my lifetime, but I will have my satisfaction." She bent down and brushed her cheek across the mummy's forehead. "Good night, father." She hit the close button. The lid slowly closed, it's rusty sliding mechanism protesting. "I will avenge you." MaH'delyna whispered softly.

Worf took the chips from Riker. "We should get started on these. We will be in my office." He said to his commanding officers, before He guided MaH'delyna out of the cargo bay.

"Worf, look at this." MaH'delyna exclaimed. "Here is another log entry made by my father, stating he didn't accuse Lersash of the raids because he didn't feel he had enough evidence to have Lersash convicted of those raids, yet in actual fact, he did. There is more than enough proof here to convict Lersash at least five times over. I just don't understand!"

"I think he explained everything in that last entry. He knew if he accused Lersash, it would have split the council, causing a civil war. Lersash had very powerful friends who could have protected him." Worf said. "And when evidence came to light that Admiral de Silva was supplying weapons to the raiders, the Federation would have been involved. This would have destroyed everything that the Khitomer conference achieved, and your father believe that peace with the Federation was paramount to the survival of the Empire."

"But why de Silva? I can understand Lersash wanted to be the leader of the high council, but why was de Silva involved? I know we saw the log entries had more than enough evidence to implicate him of being involved in the raids, but he seems to smart to have involved himself in something as risky as someone posing as a member of the High council. What did he have over my father? What did he want?"

"Power, I would assume." Worf sipped his prune juice. "Think of it this way. de Silva would have had indirect control of the empire through Lersash! If Lersash became leader of the High Council, de Silva could have blackmailed Lersash into doing anything that de Silva wanted. The power behind the throne."

MaH'delyna sighed and rubbed her head. "I get the impression Lersash didn't fully understand the resources my father had. Lersash had the bigger fleet, but Father controlled the Dilythium mines. My father cut off the power supply and Lersash couldn't power his ships. Father then used the money he made trading Dylythium to buy ships, creating a balance of power."

"Now what we need to fin out is, who killed him, and who replaced him. It has to be someone who was involved, and who your considered an ally, because Keth'ex wouldn't have let an enemy close enough to kill him." Worf said.

She picked up the last chip. "Maybe this is the one that explains things. We can always hope!" She put the chip into the computer.

Worf sat back. He had a feeling that whoever killed Keth'ex was the person Keth'ex had been trading the Dilythium with. The trading was on the shady side as there were no records kept with either the Federation or in the Imperial database. Whoever had been buying the crystals from Keth'ex clandestinely certainly had covered his tracks..

The chip activated, but was not an ordinary log. It showed Keth'ex from the side, talking to someone who was in front of him yet completely covered in shadow. Behind Keth'ex was Veri'na, MaH'delyna's mother.

"I am sick of your treachery human!" Keth'ex yelled. "You are as guilty of the raids as Lersash. You hedged your bets well, but you didn't know I was having you followed. Now you will die, like the scum you are!"

A chilling voice emitted from the darkness, "I don't need you either!" de Silva strolled easily into view. "You see, Keth'ex, I don't need to hedge my bets anymore. I have a solution to the rather sticky problem you represent. You are just too caught up in such useless things and honor and integrity to be of any use to me."

Keth'ex sneered. "This morning I compiled enough evidence against you to convince even your squeamish federation will convict you. You are finished." Keth'ex laughed and turned his back on de Silva. "I would start running now, Worm."

It was Keth'ex's mistake. De Silva snapped his fingers and before Keth'ex could react, two men rushed out of the shadows and attacked Keth'ex. Worf noticed the one who garroted Keth'ex was the same man Worf killed in MaH'delyna's quarters this morning.

The murders made short work of Keth'ex. de Silva watched, a look of satisfaction on his has, before he turned to MaH'delyna's mother, "Meet your new husband, Veri'na." The impostor stepped out of the shadows. de Silva started to laugh.

Veri'na lunged and grabbed the _batlh'etlh_ and a phasor from her husband's body. "Never! I will see you in hell first!" She fired it and then hit a button on her body activating a transporter beam. The tape then shut off.

MaH'delyna sat stunned. "That was in Father's study on planet Dazpa, but how did my mother get the body here to Qronos?"

"I don't know, perhaps we never will, but now we know who murdered your father, and tomorrow you can have your vengeance!" Worf growled.

She stared almost dejectedly at the computer screen. "Yes, it will all be over tomorrow, for good or for ill."


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

Worf looked over at MaH'delyna, who lay curled up on the couch, her father's deadly _batlh'etlh_ clutched against her body, the same way a child would hold a stuffed animal. For some reason the image appealed to Worf's klingon psyche, beauty curled around strength. He smiled and gently caressed her shoulder. "Wake up, MaH'delyna! It is time!"

She opened her eyes. She let go of the sword with one hand and traced her hand down the side of his face. "My warrior." She said, and threaded her fingers through his hair, pulling it out the ponytail. "If only I had your strength."

He gently took the weapon out of her hands and laid it reverently on the floor, before sitting down on the couch beside her. Worf picked up her hand and kissed the inside of her palm. "You have a big day today, little mother. Are you ready?"

She looked seriously at him for a moment and then shut her eyes. "It goes in fits and starts. I feel a certain amount of trepidation at the thought of seeing Gowron. He is going to be furious that we tricked him."

"I had to make sure he wasn't after the Latinum. I can't trust anyone, not if I am going to protect you." He ran his arms up to her neck, and down into her hair which lay loose and flowing on the couch.

"Gods willing, I will kill a man today." MaH'delyna whispered quietly.

"Two or three, if you are lucky." He added cheerfully.

She half-smiled. "I killed two men on SoS; when they were going to kill my son, but I remember it like a dream. I had to save my son from de Silva, and two of his warriors were in my way; I was desperate. I don't think I can consciously kill someone. How can I take another being's life, Worf? Won't that make me as bad as them?" She said referring to Keth'ex and Lersash.

He sighed. "It is not easy to take a life, but you have to do what you have to do! Taking revenge does not make you like them, in any way, shape or manner." He slowly traced the ridges on her forehead.

"Well, I guess we will see what happens. If I should die today, Worf, I want you to know that I-," She stopped when he cut her off.

"You will not die today. I refuse to let you." He took her chin in his hand. "Now, no more talk of such things. Thinking about them can make them come true." Worf replied sternly.

She smiled and rose. "You have a point." MaH'delyna replied as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on to him. "I told you once that you were a really gentle person. I want you to know I still believe that to be true. You are magnificent, Worf."

He crushed her to him. He didn't know what to say. "I will keep you safe, today!" Worf vowed. He had to. If she died, he had a feeling he would die too.

Worf, Picard and MaH'delyna beamed down to stand before the doors to the great council chamber. Worf wore his gray formal robes over his uniform; his hair loose on his shoulders. Picard and MaH'delyna both wore hooded gray cloaks, as was customary for strangers entering the council chamber. The cloaks were deeply cowled to hide their faces. Technically they were designed to make it difficult for the visitor to see who the members of the council were. A mere formality nowadays, but Worf was thankful for the custom today, for this way MaH'delyna's identity would be concealed until Worf saw fit to unveil her.

He knew Picard was wearing his dress uniform under the cloak, but he was unsure what MaH'delyna was wearing under hers. She had left his office abruptly after their talk and when he had next seen her, she had been wearing the engulfing garment. All he knew was that she had her _batlh'etlh_ with her.

Picard spoke up from the folds of the cowl. "Riker has orders to beam General Tyng down as soon as he arrives on the Enterprise. He is also on standby to beam down Keth'ex's casket should it prove necessary to produce a body."

Worf nodded. "Excellent, sir. Thank you." He turned to MaH'delyna. "Are you ready?"

He couldn't see her face, but from the solemn nod of her head, he knew that she was. Whatever internal preparations she made before beaming down, they had worked for she was completely calm.

He turned and they crossed the few meters between the beam down coordinates and the council chamber doors. Two guards stood at the entrance. "Who seeks entrance to the High Council of the Klingon Empire?" One asked.

"I am Worf, Son of Mohg."

"And the visitors?"

"Captain Picard of the Federation Starship Enterprise, and his aide."

The klingon nodded and slowly swung the ancient doors open. Worf looked inside at the dim room to see Kahless sitting on the large throne at the top of a raised dais, and Gowron in his formal regalia a few steps lower. The rest of the council stood in a semicircle around the room. Worf checked to see where Lersash and Keth'ex were. They stood near the dais, looking very self congratulatory.

The room was tinged red, as the feeble afternoon sunlight struck the great klingon triangle which was glassed into the ceiling. Worf and his party walked to stand in the center of the Imperial insignia that had been inlaid in the floor. Gowron looked disdainfully at Worf. "Worf, Son of Mohg. You dishonor us by being late to our council meeting."

Worf knew very well he was late. He had specially planned it to be this way. "I apologize to the Emperor if I have offended him." Worf looked at Kahless.

The Emperor waived his hand. "We are not offended, despite the words of our First minister. We understand that the Son of Mohg has duties which come before attending a meeting of the High council of the Empire." But Kahless' flippant manner held rebuke.

"We were just discussing the massacre of the planet SoS, Worf. Does the Federation have anything to say on the matter?" Gowron sneered. Worf could just hear the 'since you let the only survivor die' at the end of his sentence.

Picard stepped forward, and pushed back his hood. "I am Captain Picard, Commander of the Federation Starship Enterprise. With the power vested in me by the United Federation of Planets, I do hereby give the deed of ownership of the planet Caltiras, also known as SoS, to the Klingon Empire. As the lone survivor has perished, custodianship of the planet goes into the hands of the First minister of the Empire, Gowron." Picard intoned formally. He walked towards Gowron, and passed Gowron a scroll which had the legal writings on it. Picard then moved backwards to stand behind Worf and MaH'delyna.

"We thank the Honorable United Federation of Planets for their sacrifice of the planet of SoS. It is our intention to make the planet a memorial to all klingon dead." Gowron said equally formally. Worf was surprised to see that there was no triumphant look on Gowron's face, just a determined resignation. Worf was also surprised by Gowron's words. By turning SoS into a memorial, he was publicly saying the Latinum would never be touched. Worf felt he had perhaps misjudged Gowron, in this instance anyway.

Worf nodded to Picard, and they both stepped over to the side of the room, leaving the completely covered MaH'delyna standing alone in the center of the Klingon Insignia. She stood so still, Worf wondered if she was still alive.

Gowron passed the scroll to an aide and put his hands on his hips. "Who is the stranger who would approach the almighty Emperor, Kahless?" MaH'delyna stayed perfectly motionless, a gray form in the middle of the hall. Gowron stared at the figure and raised his fist. "Well, damn it! What does the emissary of the Federation want with the Emperor? The Emperor has not the time to waste on foolishness."

There was a faint movement under the cloak before it slide from MaH'delyna's shoulders in a single fluid motion. Underneath she wore flowing, brilliant green pants and a metal breastplate composed of tiny overlaping green tiles. Across one shoulder she wore a sash like Worf's which represented her as head of her house. On the sash were medallions representing her house, her status in Ba, and another pin Worf didn't recognize, but that he assumed had something to do with her status on SoS. Her hair was braided around her head like a halo and she wore a large metal diadem in her hair. She held the _batlh'etlh_ against her left leg and coiled around the upper part of her right arm she wore a serpent armband, running from elbow to armpit. She stood like a fierce warrior angel.

"I approach the Emperor Kahless, I am _Qing_ and _voDleH_ MaH'delyna of SoS. I am also DiH'Xang-MaH'delyna, head of the house of Keth'ex-MaH'drang." She said in a clear voice which rang throughout the silent hall.

Gowron stood on the dais, his mouth gaping, his body completely still. Kahless rose from his throne, and answered for Gowron. "We honor a visit from our imperial sister, the Queen of SoS. We are very pleased to see her alive and unharmed." Worf watched the Klingon emperor's eyes rest on Gowron.

Worf watched as Keth'ex stood straighter, and Lersash narrowed his eyes.

"I bring charges of conspiracy within the mighty Klingon Empire. In this very room are two traitors who would seek to place themselves in the chair of the Emperor. They would pass off an impostor in the place of a noble klingon Warrior and were responsible in the destruction of SoS. Under klingon law I demand vengeance!" Her voice shook the mighty hall.

The room stayed completely silent. Nobody moved, not a sound could be heard. After a few moments of the suffocating silence Gowron descended from the dais. "The queen of SoS brings very serious allegations before the Emperor. Might the council know who are the accused?" He asked.

"I charge Councilor Lersash, and the man who is posing as Councilor Keth'ex-MaH'drang." MaH'delyna said very clearly, enunciating every word carefully.

Kahless snapped his fingers. "We would have councilors Lersash and Keth'ex approach us."

The pair emerged from the crowd. "Your Imperial Majesty, these accusations are completely unfounded." Lersash answered smoothly. "These are the ramblings of a delirious girl." He shrugged.

Gowron turned to Lersash. "Amazingly, these are the muttering's of a supposedly dead girl. Next time you arrange to have someone murdered, Lersash, make sure they finish the job!" He said tonelessly. "My men would never be so sloppy."

Lersash looked at Gowron, his face a picture of innocence. "Why should I want to injure this girl, who is the obviously sick daughter of my ally?"

"Because you know as well as I do that she has the proof that is going to bring you down!"

Kahless clapped his hands. "First we will deal with the charges that this man is not the real councilor Keth'ex. What evidence do you have against him, MaH'delyna of SoS?"

MaH'delyna raised the Summer sword aloft. "First, your imperial Majesty, I present the sword of my family. It has been authentisified, and is the genuine article." She paused as the doors burst open.

And old but powerful looking klingon entered the room. "I, General Tyng also support this claim! The same claim I made eleven years ago in this very room."

Lersash sneered. "Ah. A delusionary, sick girl, and the testimony of a mad man. I believe we have wasted enough of the council's time with this foolish claim!" He turned his back on Tyng.

Gowron glanced at MaH'delyna, obviously dubious. "Do you have anymore proof?" He asked.

Worf hit his communicator badge, "Worf to Riker, now would be a good time!" He whispered.

As the old metal casket materialized behind MaH'delyna, she raised her voice and shouted, "I bring the council the most important piece of evidence there is! I bring you my father, Keth'ex-MaH'drang himself!" She sauntered over to the casket and deactivated the locking mechanism, causing it to open with a terrible squeal. When the top had moved back, she leaned over and pulled up the mummified body. "I charge that this man is not Keth'ex because the real Keth'ex was murdered twelve years ago! The council cannot ask for more biologically or legally binding proof!"

Gowron blinked at the body and then strode over for a better look. He examined it for a moment, and then turned around and leisurely pointed at Keth'ex. "Seize him!" He said almost flippantly. "I concur, Emperor Kahless, Keth'ex-MaH'drang is most definatly," He paused, looked at the impostor, and smiled. "He's dead."

Two guards instantly flanked Keth'ex, while Lersash moved away uneasily. Gowron stalked over and pulled out his dagger. There was an ominous 'snick' as the two tiny blades set on either side of the main blade, flicked into view. "Who are you, who would pose as a Klingon Warrior?"

The impostor, his lips clamped together mutinously, stayed silent. Gowron smiled sadistically. "You make this so much easier for me!" He murmured, just loud enough for the crowd to hear. He jammed the dagger into the impostor's chest, thick green blood spurting everywhere. Gowron jerked the dagger out of the body, and thrust it into the impostor's stomach for good measure. With a powerful flick of his wrist, he twisted the knife in the wound, before he pulled the dagger out again. A dreadful, wet, tearing noise accompanied the brutal action. "Obviously, not a klingon!" Gowron sneered and spit on the crumpling body.

"GELVOK!" Worf called as he rushed to the scene to see if his guess was correct.

The man who appeared to be Keth'ex looked up. "Yes, Gelvok." He gurgled, green blood running from his mouth.

Gowron kicked the dying man in the chest, the crunch of shattered bones filling the hall. "Get this piece of Vulcan trash out of my sight."

MaH'delyna gently lowered the body back into it's coffin before she crossed her arms over her chest _._ Worf looked at her and made eye contact. He knew she understood. Gelvok had been the vulcan whom Keth'ex had humiliated so many years ago on Earth, along with de Silva.

Kahless stood. "And as to your other claim; do you have proof of Lersash's treachery?"

MaH'delyna reached into her bodice and pulled out the memory chip she and Worf compiled the night before. "All the proof is here, proof accumulated by my father before his murder twelve years ago. Evidence showing Lersash to be the mastermind behind a series of raids against klingon merchant vessels. There is also medical evidence of his DNA from the medial logs of the USS Enterprise's chief medial officer, showing him to be one of my the men who raped me on SoS." MaH'delyna stated with dreadful finality as she handed Gowron the chip.

Kahless looked at her. "These are serious accusations that you bring before the us!"

Lersash spit on the floor. "I demand satisfaction for this slander against my honor. I demand justice. I challenge DiX'ang-MaH'delyna to prove herself in combat!" He yelled. "This is my right as a member of this council."

"I will champion MaH'delyna!" Gowron bellowed, staring at Lersash.

Kahless looked at the ceiling. "If MaH'delyna chooses to accept this challenge, there will be no champions. She must fight the battle herself, so it is written in our sacred laws." His voice brimmed with exasperation. "It is a challenge between two houses."

MaH'delyna sneered at Lersash. "I am not afraid! I accept the challenge! May justice bless the honorable."

"So let it be done. Mortal combat!" Kahless seemed fatalistic about the issue. He walked up the dais stairs and sat on the throne; Gowron followed him to stand by the emperor's chair.

Worf felt a gnawing pit develop in his stomach. He knew MaH'delyna could fight well, but she lacked stamina. He prayed she would survive the coming duel.

Lersash took his _batlh'etlh_ from a waiting aide and approached MaH'delyna "I thought I killed you on SoS, Bitch! I will make sure I finish the job!" He said dropping into a defensive crouch.

MaH'delyna stood at ease, looking at him the with same arrogant expression she had fixed on Worf when they fought on the Rec Deck. Worf realized it was an attitude designed to infuriate one's opponent into error. Lersash crabbed slowly forward and MaH'delyna calmly stepped back. "Are you too afraid to stand your ground? COWARD!" He shrilled.

MaH'delyna made a lightning fast lunge, the tip of her sword grazing Lersash's face. Worf noted her lack of ritualistic movements was hard for Lersash to follow. He assumed this was the type of fighting native to SoS.

Lersash yelled, enraged. He flew forward and the tip of his weapon caught in mesh of MaH'delyna's shirt, but did not pierce the skin. She lashed out with a foot, but the blow did not connect before he swung his _batlh'etlh_ in a wide arc and missed her neck by centimeters. MaH'delyna swiped at his unprotected belly but he was able to parry the blow. Worf realized where MaH'delyna had speed, and a different fighting technique, Lersash had more skill and more stamina.

"Come, Lersash," She taunted. "You can kill children, yet you can't manage one mere female? What kind of warrior are you?"

He made a quick jab, piercing her upper left arm. He ripped upwards and opened the wound more, causing a small trickle of blood to run down her arm. "I am a warrior who is going to kill you!"

She winced but pressed on. Their weapons clashed several times. She caught him in the stomach with a boot, he grunted and pressed on with his attack. Thrust, parry, thrust, parry. Their fight ranged all over the room, with the exception of the dais. They raged back and forth, blow for blow, each refusing to give the other ground.

"I will destroy you!" MaH'delyna's words came from amid harsh gasps. She missed a close attack on his face but flipped the _batlh'etlh_ over and jabbed backwards with the wooden handle. The blow stung him across the chest, the point of the sword making an incision in his battle armor. It was a moved Worf had never seen before.

Lersash attacked her fiercely after her scoring hit. "I was going to spare you, but now I will kill you!" Lersash screamed, a hysterical note in his voice. He hacked at her with his sword and cut her deeply across the upper thigh.

MaH'delyna didn't even notice it. "I will not spare you! I will have your head for the death of my son!" Thrust, parry, thrust, parry. Her blade cleaved into his arm, drawing even more blood.

"He died like a coward!" Lersash puffed nastily!. He caught her other leg with the tip of his sword. Between the two wounds, she was bleeding profusely and Worf was worried about her ability to go on much longer. They danced back and forth in a deadly rhythm. The floor tiles were slowly becoming slick with magenta klingon blood.

"He died like a Warrior!" She feinted left and sliced downward. Lersash danced away but before he did, she grabbed ahold of his armor. MaH'delyna rolled onto her back and threw him across the room, in one of those uniquely SoSian holds. He hit the wall and screamed, a sound of purely insane rage!

Lersash charged her, spittle flying from his mouth. "I will kill you!" He seemed unable to feel his wounds as he swung at MaH'delyna.

"Even if I die, I still win! There is enough information to implicate you five times over on that disk!" She shouted, trying to off balance him. She hit him in the side of her neck with the wooden part of the _batlh'etlh_ hard but as she pulled backwards she was unable to cut him. With his free hand, Lersash grabbed her sword at the opposite end and held on to it. He lifted his _batlh'etlh_ and was prepared to finish her off when she kicked him in the mouth. He roared and turned to spit out several teeth, his mouth full of blood. The spittle on his face slowly turned purple as he gibbered at her.

"I will take you just like I did on SoS! I will use your body and the discard it just like the piece of trash it is! There will be no honorable burial! I will kill you!" Lersash raved, his eyes rolling wildly.

MaH'delyna hit Lersash in the back with her blade, but no hard enough to do any real damage. The problem was that she couldn't get her _batlh'etlh_ out of his grip and around to defend herself. Worf felt his heart turn to lead as Lersash wailed around and attacked her.

The Weapon bit deeply into the side her body, almost going into the spine, or so it seemed to Worf. She stumbled backwards and fell over, her head smacking against the floor tiles with a hollow thud. MaH'delyna placed a hand on her side, trying to hold the wound closed.

Worf moved to jump into the fray when Picard held him back. "This is her fight!" Picard hissed. Worf looked around to see that Gowron was being similarly held by Kahless.

Lersash approached quickly, eager to finish her off! He loomed over her, a look of fanatical triumph on his face; his _batlh'etlh_ raised to decapitate her when MaH'delyna's booted foot slammed between his legs. Lersash's eyes widened, he doubled over and howled in pain. While he stumbled backwards, MaH'delyna struggled slowly to her feet, the only noise in the hall was her ghastly wheezing.

She raised her _batlh'etlh_ and with agonizing slowness, pursued Lersash. "I must go on! Can't let him defeat me!" Worf heard her moan. She staggered forward, one arm trying circling around her body, the other holding her sword at about shoulder height. She moved like one in a trance, like someone possessed; her blood streaming from her wounds.

She attacked suddenly, and Worf wondered where this well of strength came from, and then he realized that MaH'delyna had gone into this battle fully expecting to die, and fought with the desperation of one who could not die with her task undone.

Her sword caught Lersash in the knee. The angle was just right to shear through the entire limb cleanly. Lersash fell to one leg, his sword arm flailing wildly in the air.. "I will destroy you for every person on SoS you murdered! I will destroy you for my son!" She whispered over and over like a mantra. "Must finish this before I join them."

Lersash's insane eyes showed his terror at this avenging angel who wouldn't fall. "No! I must win!" He screamed from his knees. "You can't defeat me!" He made a swipe at her with his sword that she slapped away.

She attacked low, because, to Worf it appeared, she could no longer hold the sword aloft. MaH'delyna parried another wild slash of Lersash's, and then removed his free arm. The limb went skittering across the floor and hit the base of the Dais.

Worf realized MaH'delyna had decided that if she was going to die, Lersash was going to die too! She pushed his gibbering body backwards with the point of her sword. Lersash was unable to defend himself. "Lersash, do you admit that you destroyed the colony of SoS?" She gurgled, blood running freely from the corner of her mouth.

"I did!" He shouted. "Now, kill me and be done with it!"

She shook her head slightly, her eyelids half closed, and brought the wavering point of the _batlh'etlh_ against of his throat. "No! Do you yield?"

He blinked at her, his blood mingling with hers on the floor. "Yield? Kill me!" Lersash pleaded desperately.

She shook her head again, "Do you yield?" She repeated weakly and swayed on her feet. The point of the weapon grazed the flesh of his throat and he squealed like a scared pig. "Yes! I yield!"

She smiled sadly. "There has been too much killing. I would rather you live in dishonor, than die honorably in battle!" She whispered softly and crumpled. Her weapon clattered to the floor and they all stood in stunned silence. Then out of the silence Lersash started screaming and they were galvenized into action.

"MAH'DELYNA!" Worf and Gowron shouted in unison. They bounded over to where she lay.

Kahless rose. "It is the opinion of this council that Councilor Lersash be hereby noted as a criminal and enemy of the state. Guards, take that _Ha'DIbaH_ away!"

Worf knelt beside MaH'delyna, reaching for her neck to feel for a life sign. He heart beat was so faint he was not sure it was there at all. "I am taking her to the Enterprise! It is the only way! They are ready for her there!"

Gowron nodded. "Take me as well."

Worf looked at him. "Worf to Enterprise. Three to beam directly to sickbay!" The council chambers vanished before his eyes to be replaced by the sterile confines of Sickbay. The moment they arrived, Beverly Crusher descended on them with a full medical trauma team.

Worf clutched MaH'delyna's hand, willing her to live. The nurses tried to push him aside but he did not move until Gowron touched his shoulder. "Come, my brother. Let the doctor do her work. There is nothing that we can do here!" He said quietly.

Worf let go, rose and stepped back. Nurses and doctors swarmed over MaH'delyna. He looked blankly at Gowron. "Beverly will save her!" He voiced desperately.

Gowron put his arm around Worf's shoulder. "I know, my brother, but we must give them space, and we need to have a little chat." There was an acidic barb to his tone. The two blood covered warriors, whose only bond was that the woman they loved lay dying, went into the waiting area. They were as brothers, waiting for the information which they both knew would have a drastic effect on their lives.


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter Twenty-Three**

About an hour later Picard and Tyng joined Worf and Gowron in the waiting room in sickbay. When the two older men entered, both Worf and Gowron rose. Worf took a good look at the General. The older klingon was still in fairly good shape. "General. I am Lieutenant Worf, and this is Gowron." He said.

Tyng looked Worf up and down, and then looked at Gowron. "So, you are the two who would have the answers to a plague that has infected the empire for twelve years?" He replied approvingly.

Gowron narrowed his eyes at Tyng. "I would say that we have pretty much eliminated the infection."

Tyng nodded. "I would say that you have the bacteria, but I don't think that you have the virus that spawns within them!"

"And what virus is that?" Worf questioned.

"de Silva. He is what started this so many years ago." Tyng answered.

Gowron looked at Worf. "Who is de Silva?"

"Retired Starfleet Admiral Fernando de Silva Y Alverez." Picard answered.

"You did not tell me about him, Worf!" Gowron said angrily.

"I did not think that he was a major player in all of this." Worf contested.

"Ah, but he is the mastermind behind this woeful tale of deceit and revenge. He wanted his revenge against Keth'ex for making him loose face with the federation. When Keth'ex accused de Silva of secret trade deals between the Vulcan government and the Federation, de Silva lost much face. It was de Silva who convinced Lersash to attack the trading ships and it was de Silva who leaked the information about Lersash to Keth'ex." Tyng explained.

"But why did de Silva want to involve himself with Lersash?" Gowron questioned.

"Lersash was ambitious, gullible and malleable. Lersash had power however; and de Silva realized if Lersash was the leader of the high council, he could control that power. And who just happened to have more power on the council but Keth'ex! So de Silva convinced Lersash to go to war with Keth'ex, who had fewer ships. Lersash thought that picking Keth'ex bones clean would be easy, but he forgot that Keth'ex had sole control of Dylythium mining within the empire. Keth'ex stopped supplying Lersash with the crystals. Ah, but now Keth'ex needed ships, and who was to come along but de Silva. de Silva had contacts in Starfleet, if Keth'ex traded Dylythuim with de Silva, the admiral would supply Keth'ex with ships. What Keth'ex didn't find out until the day he died was that de Silva was selling Keth'ex's dylythium back to Lersash." Tyng rubbed the side of his nose. "de Silva was very clever."

Picard turned to the old klingon. "But why go to all the trouble of the impostor, and why the Vulcan, Gelvok?"

"Gelvok was destroyed when Keth'ex accused him of illegal trading with de Silva. As I understand it, The vulcan government suspended him, and removed his license to practice medicine, for originally he was a doctor. His life was over. de Silva knew that Gelvok and Keth'ex were around the same height and build, it is a simple operation to make a vulcan look like a klingon! With an impostor in Keth'ex's place, de Silva had another chance to have a puppet on the council. Look at the power and influence he has with two men who are only members? And neither man would ever have been able to get rid of him, for de Silva could always blackmail them." Tyng continued.

"I still don't understand why! de Silva is a human, and a rather old one at that. He wouldn't live much longer than he has." Gowron said.

"Ah, but he isn't. Or partially isn't. de Silva is a quarter Vulcan. Something of a mistake on the part of his mother, and a half vulcan embassy attache, and of personal embarrassment for himself. He was disgusted with all things non human, like the human that who he thought was his father. I should know, I was the one that Keth'ex had following de Silva. I know all sorts of things about the dear admiral. His mother had him surgically altered when he was a babe so that no one would ever know, I think that he grew up believing that he was a human. And the last part that ties this all together is that Gelvok was de Silva's son. Slimy green blood runs through both of their veins." Tyng growled.

Gowron smirked. "It doesn't really run through Gelvok's anymore."

"So this has all been based on power and revenge?" Picard asked.

Tyng raised his eyebrows and nodded. "Oh yes." He replied almost cheerfully.

"How did I know that you were going to say that?" Picard said distastefully.

"What I don't understand was why de Silva had Lersash and Gelvok attack SoS?" Tyng said.

"That is easy. de Silva must have seen the same tape of MaH'delyna that I did. He knew that she was alive, and suspected that she knew that she could identify Gelvok as an impostor." Gowron answered.

Worf nodded. "And when de Silva had Keth'ex killed, Keth'ex told de Silva that he had proof of de Silva's treachery. de Silva must have assumed that MaH'delyna had that proof. And it would have only compounded matters when Toloth was sniffing around the empire to find out if MaH'delyna's family was still alive. If Toloth was half as intelligent as I think he was, he probably ran across some of this treachery. I would assume that the reason everyone on the planet was murdered was because de Silva didn't know who else Toloth might have told."

"We will never really know." Picard shook his head. "Now for my question. I have seen that last log tape that we found with the body. How did MaH'delyna's mother know?"

Tyng's old eyes softened. "Veri'na was smarter than all of us warriors put together. She didn't trust de Silva when he came to trade Federation surplus vessels with Keth'ex. She had a feeling that de Silva might still be holding a grudge from the incident two years previous. She told all of us back then that de Silva had some form of trick up his sleeve. If only we had believed her! Now, I would assume that most of her preparations were because we were at war with another klingon house, but very early on in the fighting, Veri'na ordered the bird of Prey that had been her dowry to be always kept on standby. She told Keth'ex that it was to be an escape vessel for her and the children. Keth'ex didn't pay any mind. He indulgently allowed it, and Veri'na kept the children on board all of the time. She also had the Bird of prey keep a transporter lock on her self at all times because Keth'ex would not allow her to stay on the ship with the children. I would assume that she made other arrangements as well. I have always suspected that she had duplicates of all Keth'ex's evidence against Lersash made." He paused.

"Very thorough!" Worf exclaimed, rather impressed.

"She was. Anyway, the night that Keth'ex was killed, which was the same night that Lersash mounted a huge assault on Keth'ex's home planet, I was on my cruiser when she summoned me to a secret room in Keth'ex house, on that planet. She was terrible upset, and said that she needed me to do her a favor. As Veri'na and I went back a very long time, I agreed. She told me to deliver a large metal box to MaH'delyna's old nurse maid on the homeworld. I beamed away with the box, but because I was getting ready for a major battle, I gave the box to a couple of sub commanders, and sent them in a shuttle to the homeworld. I didn't realize then that I had shipped Keth'ex's body away." He looked at Worf and Gowron. "I have always regretted not looking inside to see what she had given me."

Gowron looked at him. "It was an extremely foolish oversight on your part. You could have solved the mystery back then!"

"I can't totally be blamed. Veri'na never told me what was inside. I assumed it was probably some inane piece of sentimental furniture she didn't want to have damaged in the attack. Anyway. about half way through the battle, I realized that Veri'na's bird of prey was leaving the star system with one of Lersash's vessels in pursuit. I changed course to follow it, because Keth'ex entrusted MaH'delyna's life to me when she was born. Lersash's ship fired on Veri'na's while Veri'na's was in Warp. Veri'na's ship must have gone into some type of warp bubble because it vanished. I assumed that it exploded, because you all know as well as I do that strange things happen when ships take damage when in a warp field. I destroyed the other ship and went back to the battle. The battle itself was a stalemate, and soon after Keth'ex, or the impostor, made peace with Lersash. It didn't take me much time after that to figure out that the man I served was not my old friend. I confronted Keth'ex, but I didn't have any proof, and he had me incarcerated in that prison for the insane right in the middle of Federation space. I would think that that was de Silva's doing, actually. I have been there ever since, because no one would believe my tale, and I could not get the proof. I searched for the box that Veri'na had given me, but when my two men delivered it, they were not told what the nursemaid had done with it, and the nursemaid had since died." He finished his tale, and looked defeated.

"And Gelvok dropped out of sight for enough years so that when he came back, no one would remember all Keth'ex's picky little quirks. He could do his impersonation, and no one would know the difference, and no one would accuse him of being an impostor." Gowron finished.

Worf shook his head digesting it all. It was quite a tale. "Amazing that if Lersash had not attacked SoS, non of this would have been discovered." He marveled.

Gowron shook his head. "What a scary thought." He turned to Tyng. "General, if you should want to permanently leave that asylum, and return to the empire, I will make the necessary arrangements. You seem rather sane to me. You don't keep tribbles as pets or anything like that, do you?" Tyng shuddered. Probably due to the thought of the purring, furry, little creatures, Worf reasoned to himself.

"I HATE tribbles! I hate them!" Tyng hissed. "They kept them at the asylum to CALM the patients. It was HELL!"

Gowron clapped the older klingon on the back. "Perfectly sane, eh, Worf?"

Worf nodded. "Absolutely."

Picard spoke up suddenly, his lip curling with a certain amount of distaste. "By the way, Kahless has decided that if she survives, MaH'delyna is to have Lersash's life as a gift. When we left, they were patching him up, and he is definitely going to live."

Gowron sneered. "Either way, he won't live long." the leader of the high council growled ominously.

Tyng looked up. "What about de Silva? Won't he be getting away?"

Picard turned to him and smiled. "Oh I don't think so. Interestingly enough, he exerted his right to board this ship sometime this morning. He wanted passage to starbase eight-six-nine. Riker had him placed in our most comfortable cell."

Worf looked down. He still was covered in MaH'delyna's blood. He hadn't even left sick bay to wash it off his hands. He knew he had to leave now. "Captain, I think that I should go pay our guest a visit."

Tyng put his hand on Worf's shoulder. "No, Worf. de Silva is mine. I have waited twelve years to rip his heart out!"

Picard narrowed his eyes. "Not on my ship!"

Tyng looked mutinous, and worf agreed with the expression on his face. Gowron stepped in smoothly. "The federation extradites, does it not?"

Picard nodded. "But not prisoners who will be capitally punished." He added.

"I didn't say that the klingon Government would kill him. We would just hold him." Gowron paused then added innocently, "To await trial, of course."

Picard nodded. "Of course. I will turn him over to you as the representative of the Klingon government, to show our goodwill, since a starfleet admiral was involved in this unfortunate incident."

Gowron smiled coldly. "I am the klingon government, Picard, not it's representative. Don't ever forget that."

Worf snorted derisively. "Someone has delusions of grandeur." He mumbled under his breath.

Gowron ignored him. "Of course, if something was to happen to de Silva during his transport to the planet, we couldn't be blamed." He said slyly.

"Of course not!" The captain said, shocked. "A transporter accident?" Picard asked with mock innocence.

"A slight power spike in the beam. Very tragic." Gowron shook his head morosely. "Very tragic." He repeated.

Tyng put his hand over his heart. "And rather painful too. Poor, poor admiral." He hung his head.

Beverly took this auspicious moment to appear. She had taken off the headgear, but on her body she still wore the red surgical garments that she wore when operating. There were lines of strain around her mouth, and her hair looked limp. She snapped her gloves off her hand and handed them to a nurse who had followed her out. The doctor crossed her arms across her chest, and leaned against the door jamb.

Worf was at her side in a moment. "Well?"

Beverly shook her head. "I don't know, Worf. I just don't know. I've done all I can, the ball is in her court now."

"Explain her condition!" Gowron ordered tightly.

"She will be very lucky if she lives. The punctures on her arms and legs aside, the blow she took to the body cavity was a mortal wound. In a human, she would have been dead before she hit the floor. The blade went ten point three centimeters into the body cavity, at angle, around the waist. When the blade entered the body, it went through the edge of the liver, into the ascending colon, through a kidney, as well as an ovary, which, if you didn't know, is much higher in the klingon body than in the human body. She lost seven of nine pints of pints of blood. If it hadn't been for the fact that Klingons have an extra kidney, among other organs, and are amazingly resilient to blood loss, she would still be dead now." Beverly finished.

Gowron whirled his head around. "What do you mean, still?"

"She was legally dead when you beamed up. She went into extreme shock, her heart stopped, brain waves, everything stopped. Now, I am not to sure if the klingon body does that automatically when seriously damaged. You were dead for almost five minutes when your body started up again when we regenerated your spine, Worf. We were able to revive her, within moments, get everything started up again. But just because she came back once doesn't mean that she is out of danger, if anything, it puts her more at risk. Her body is running completely on the redundant systems. Until the main systems are working, I would say that she is far from my being able to say that she will make it or not." Beverly explained.

"How long until you know?" Picard asked.

Beverly shrugged weakly. "I don't know. It could be hours, days, even weeks, if it happens at all."

Worf felt a horrible pit develop in his stomach. "Is there anything that you can do? Inject?"

Beverly shook her head. "Not that I haven't already done. If she had been beamed up when the original wound was made, I would have been able to patch her up, no problem. But whatever it is she did before you gentlemen saw fit to bring her here aggravated her wounds so much that it compounded the problem." The doctor said tartly. "Her body was so desperate to keep blood in the extremities that it did not supply blood to certain body systems that were unnecessary to fighting, which is what I presume she was doing. I would assume that her reproductive systems had no blood circulating to them for around five minutes."

"By the gods!" Tyng exclaimed.

"YEs, well, a little adrenalin goes a long way. In MaH'delyna's case, it was the only thing keeping her alive." Beverly muttered.

"Is she awake?" Worf asked quietly.

"No. Again, I don't know when she will wake up."

"Can I see her?" Worf needed to see her.

Beverly shook her head. "No. No non surgical personnel near her. She is in a containment field. I don't want any bacteria near her."

Worf then turned to look at Gowron. Something passed between them. In unison they said, "de Silva!" They brushed past Picard with Tyng in tow. Worf transversed the halls at steady, decided pace. He ignored the looks and gasps that he received from people in the halls. He knew his blood covered exterior was probably daunting.

He entered the brig and yelled, "OUT!" to the man who sat at the desk. The man, who was not about to argue with his superior officer, especially one who looked like he was about to explode, hurried out of the room.

Fernando de Silva Y Alverez, part human, part vulcan, sat on the bed, in the lotus position, meditating. At Worf's shout he looked up, and his elegant eyes widened with trepidation. "So, the barbarians are at the gate." HE sneered.

"This is the end!" Tyng yelled. "I have been wanting your blood for twelve years! The time of reckoning has come!"

"And I am prepared for death. I have nothing left. My mongrel son is dead, and soon the knowledge of my schemes will soon be all over the Federation and the Empire." He said fatalisticaly.

"Actually, officially, you are about to extradited." Gowron pointed out. "Once off this ship, you are in my custody."

"Political talk, meaning nothing. I am not surprised that Picard did not have the backbone to stand up to you. For a human he seems remarkably weak." de Silva murmured smoothly.

"You aren't being logical, VULCAN!" Tyng sneered as Worf deactivated the security field.

"Do not call me that. It is bad enough that my noble spanish blood is mixed with that of some mongrel race. At least my mother did not dally with one of your kind. God forbid I have the blood of a barbarian in me." He closed his eyes.

The security field flicked once before it vanished. Tyng was on de Silva in an instant. Gowron ripped Tyng off the Admiral while worf Put his hand on the ex-Admiral's shoulder. "Worf to Transporter room. Four to beam down to somewhere on the planets surface. Somewhere uninhabited."

A minute later they were in the middle of a flat tundra plain. There were no trees to break the horizon line. It was dark and the stars twinkled in the sky. The moons overhead glowed brightly. de Silva looked around. "I am unafraid. Get it over with."

Gowron smiled evilly in the darkness. "Oh, no, Admiral." He said slowly. "We barbarians like to savour things such as revenge. It is a large part of our culture." His voice was as smooth as honey.

Worf grinned, and shrugged. "It would be blasphemy, Admiral. I am sure that you understand that." He felt the blood of the warrior run in his veins. He was going to enjoy this.

de Silva showed fear for the first time. "What do you mean?"

Worf let de Silva go while Gowron looked at the moon. "It goes like this, Admiral. You get a three minute head start. You run, chase you. You get way, and well, we will wait to kill you." He explained casually.

The admiral's face looked uncertain. "But there is nowhere to hide!" He returned, looking towards the cliffs in the distance.

Tyng raised his hands. "That is your problem."

Worf looked at the de Silva. "You had best get moving. You only have about two minutes, forty five seconds left."

de Silva turned and bounded across the tundra at a dead run. "Have you noticed that rabbits always tend to try to get away with a quick burst of speed that doesn't last them all that long?" Tyng commented.

Gowron nodded. "a genetic failing, I would say."

Tyng looked at the pair of them, de Silva's labored breathing fading away. "I am an old man. If I fall behind, you will save me some of the fun?"

Gowron frowned. "Of course. It would be dishonorable not to share the hunt with you. You deserve a share in his demise as much as Worf and I do!"

Worf looked over at Gowron. "I think that we have given him enough time. Let's go hunting, gentlemen!"

The three klingons lit out across the prairie land like an unstoppable force. They trailed their quarry for a while, teasing him by lagging behind, never quite catching up. De Silva ran for all he was worth, and when he reached the cliffs he started to climb up, trying to escape the death behind him.

When the trio reached to bottom of the cliff they stopped and watched the Admiral's frantic climbing. De silva was about thirty feet above them. "You know," Worf mused," He probably thinks that if he gets to the top he will make it?"

Tyng nodded. "A fair estimate."

Gowron smiled, an expression of pure evil. "Then we had best make sure that he doesn't get there." He pulled out his disrupter and shot de Silva's hand. With a scream, the Admiral let go with the injured hand, but clung to the cliff tenatiously with the other.

Tyng loked over at the klingon leader. "He's still up there." He said helpfully.

"Not for long." The disrupter fired again, and the Admiral's other hand let go. They watched as Fernando de Silva dropped to the ground.

Worf stalked over to the twitching heap that was once a man. De Silva's limbs were splayed at odd angles. Worf felt a certain amount of disgust, but his taste for vengance had fled. He felt spent. He had had enough of this. Killing de Silva wouldn't save MaH'delyna.

De Silva's eyes opened. "Kill me before they torture me, Worf. Make it quick, painless. I am in so much pain."

"Is it dead yet, Worf?" Called Tyng.

Worf looked into de Silva's tortured eyes and considered the situation. He guessed this was one of those moments when a man, for it was a human sentimant, could redeem himself, and perhaps grow to be a better person. But despite his insight, he chose not to grow, chose not to be merciful, and was glad none of his friends were here to see this. While looking deeply into those eyes he answered. "No, it's not dead yet. Have your revenge." He walked away, silently reproving himself.

"Not going to join us Worf?"

Worf turned back. "No, Gowron. I've had my fill."He could feel the bile rise in his throat.

Gowron shrugged and turned back to de Silva. "I am going to make you wish that you had never been whelped, Admiral."

Worf looked out over the tundra and listened as Gowron lived out his promise.


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter Twenty-four**

Worf was in a corner. He knew it, and he knew that Gowron knew it. The klingon leader was always on board the Enterprise, always in sick bay, waiting for MaH'delyna to wake up. Now Gowron was suggesting she be moved to a facility that he was having set up for her. The only thing keeping Picard from transferring her were Beverly's scowls and Worf's pleas. He had a feeling that it was not the latter, but the former that kept the Captain in check.

It had been two days since the fight that was fast becoming a legend in the Empire. MaH'delyna had become a folk hero. And now the people were clamoring to hear of her progress. Not like there had been any. She still slept. Worf hated the feeling of powerlessness he felt. This was worse than when they had been on SoS. He didn't care forher then.

He entered Sick Bay and was surprised not to see any of Gowron's bodyguards. Worf snorted. Gowron must have decided to take a break. Worf had to admit to himself that he, too, had been contributing to the wear on the carpet in here.

He walked past Beverly's office and was surprised to see that she was not there. He had become used to her sympathetic smiles every time he walked by. Worf stopped suddenly. His Communicator beeping. "Dr. Crusher to Worf, will you please report to sickbay."

He smiled slightly, the first time in three days. He stepped into the regular care section. "Doctor crusher?" He called.

She poked her head around from intensive care, her face frozen with surprise. "That was quick."

He shrugged. "Turbo lifts. What can I say." He said with a certain amount of mirth. "I notice that Gowron and his Goon squad aren't here. That is a first." He commented dryly.

Beverly sighed. "I was about to break his legs. I would have last night, were it not for my hypocratic oath. He's constantly in my hair. But enough of this, MaH'delyna is awake, and asking for you."

The lights in sick bay became brighter, the air smelled fresher and Beverly looked like a Goddess. "How is she?"

"Her body has switched back to the main organs. I think she will pull through. Be gentle though. No bear hugs." Her lips twitched, amused.

"Ha, ha, ha." He walked into intensive care, feeling a little nervous. It had been two days. Would she have changed in that amount of time?

She looked very small under the iridescent medial blanket. Her eyes were closed, and even though her chest was moving up and down, her breathing was very shallow. He slowly walked toward her. He felt a twinge of deja vu. It made him feel uneasy.

"Little mother?" He called softly in klingon.

She opened her eyes. It was like the sun rising, to Worf. She turned her head to look at him. "Worf!" She sighed. Her voice seemed rusty from lack of use.

He took a few tentative steps forward. She had never looked more beautiful to him. She had also never looked so frail. He couldn't believe how much she had wasted away in two days. "I am here, MaH'delyna." He said in english." And so are you. Thank Kahless that he was not ready to take you to Stovokhor." He reached the bed and gently took her hand.

She smiled slightly at him. "Thank Kahless indeed." Her eyes searched his face. "You don't look well, Worf. You don't look well at all. What have you been doing to yourself?"

"I should ask you the same question!" He jested.

"Well, you know me. I work with children all day. they can really take the energy out of a klingon." She bantered.

"Tell me about it. Mine has been looking daggers at me because I went and let his favorite teacher get hurt." He felt his voice crack, and he switched into klingon so that he could put the proper emotion into his voice. "I should never have let you fight Lersash. I watched you die before my very eyes. I should never have let you fight him." The guilt of two days overwhelmed him.

She reached up and traced a pattern on his cheek. "I did what I had to do. You know that. And I am alive. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Nothing lost, either." He whispered.

"You could never have been lost, Worf. I would have always been here." She let her finger meander from his cheek to the region above his heart.

"I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You would have gone on to bigger and better things."

He shook his head. "Never."

She shut her eyes and was silent for a moment. "I am alive, again, Worf. Inside. There is something within me that has awakened again. I feel alive. A month ago, a week ago, I would never have believed that I would feel this way. Alive." She tasted the word.

He could see that there was a sparkle in her eye that had never been there before. The pain was still there, the memory was still there, but in the flat, lifeless spot, there lay a glimmer. "You are so beautiful!"

Gowron and the high council had laid an ultimatum before Worf. MaH'delyna had to pass judgment on Lersash, his family, and his house, as well as all the other men who raped her, all of whom had turned themselves in, or the council would do it. And she had to do it today. Since she awoke four days, things had been moving on the planet below. It didn't help that the Enterprise was leaving today, and not staying for the entire NeH'sezv'ar festival. She had to go down to the planet and pass sentence in front of a full council, and anyone else who wanted to attended, klingon or otherwise. He clamped his teeth together. She hadn't even taken a step off of the Biobed in sickbay, she hadn't even been moved out of intensive care, and Gowron wanted her to go down and in front of at least one hundred people, pass judgment on the man who had almost killed her.

Beverly, naturally, was spitting nails. Worf had been there when she had told Picard in no uncertain terms that she would challenge Gowron to a duel before she would turn her patient over to the klingon leader. MaH'delyna had taken the matter into her own hands when she had told the Doctor that she was going down to the planet even if Beverly tied her down. Worf didn't like it. He believed that Gowron was playing games, but there was nothing that he could do.

He put on a different set of formal robes than the ones he had worn a week ago. He still hadn't washed the other set. For some reason, it seemed blasphemous to clean MaH'delyna's blood off of them. When he had told her that, she had scoffed at him for being silly.

MaH'delyna. He wondered what she was doing now. He hadn't seen her since yearly this morning. She had been closeted with Emperor Kahless since after breakfast. He wondered if she was nervous.

His door chimed and he straightened his garments and called "Come."

It was Beverly, looking resplendent in her formal uniform, something he had rarely seen her in. "Hello Worf." She said curtly.

"Doctor." He said cautiously. He knew that she was mad at him. He was going to tread very softly around her.

"I was sent by a certain very stubborn woman to fetch you. She and that Emperor of yours told me that it was time. The captain is with them now." She instructed him crisply.

"Yes, I was just on my way." He replied. "Are you coming down to the surface with us?"

"Oh yes. I don't even know if MaH'delyna has the strength to walk. There is no way I am going to allow her to go down to the planet without my being there to make sure that she is all right." The Doctor said.

Worf nodded as they left his quarters. "I understand that sentiment." They walked in silence until they arrived at the turbolift. "You know, Doctor, I don't want this anymore than you do. There just isn't anything that I can do about it. I tried, but Gowron has the council right where he wants them."

"Sickbay. "She said to the Computer. She put her hand on his arm. "I know. I realize that I haven't been totally fair to you. I just am worried, and I hate feeling that I can't manipulate the situation like everyone else." She smiled at him.

He nodded and they walked into the sickbay. When they arrived in Sickbay, MaH'delyna was sitting on the edge of the biobed looking like a queen. She was wearing a green gown unlike anything he had ever seen before. The bodice was tight and encrusted with beading and embroidery, and the skirt was bell shaped and made of frothy net. Her hair had been braided ornately into a coronet and within the center of the Coronet she wore a crown like piece of jewelry. She looked much better than she had when he had first seen her, but he still was unhappy about this.

"May I present her majesty, the queen of SoS." Kahless said with flourish.

Worf looked at MaH'delyna. "You called yourself the queen of SoS the other day and I never got around to asking you about it. I knew that you were the chancellor's wife, how did you become queen?"

She looked at him and smiled. "Well, Toloth was next in line for the throne. As the king was dead, and Toloth was dead, it makes me queen. Not like it makes any difference, really, as I have a kingdom of one person. Rather pretentious really. But the other day I thought that it would enhance my claim against Lersash, and his Imperial majesty says that I am fully within my rights to use it, so I might as well use it today." She explained.

He walked over to stand before her. "You are really amazing, do you know that?"

She let out a small peal of laughter. "You could say the same thing about yourself."

Before he could speak, Jean-Luc picard entered the intensive care area. "I just talked to Gowron. He says that we should go down now, as everyone has arrived."

Worf put his hands gently around MaH'delyna's chest. He picked her up just above the waste, being careful not to disturb the place where she had been wounded. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I guess that it is the moment of truth." She giggled, nervously.

He nodded and set her gently on her feet. She fell slightly forward, and he braced her gently against him. He could feel her skirts swirl around his feet like an emerald green sea. Worf liked the feeling.

She put her weigh onto her feet and took a step back from him. "I think that I will be all right, as long as I have someone's arm to hold on to."

"My arm is yours." Worf replied steadfastly. At this moment he would have cut it off for her.

She put her hand lightly on his forearm. "Thank you!"

Picard cleared his throat. "Well, we should be off. Picard to Transporter room, five to beam from sickbay to the pre-specified coordinates." He said.

They all beamed into the same hall outside the council chamber that Worf, Picard and MaH'delyna had beamed into a week ago. As the guards opened the door, the quintet arranged themselves in a loose formation. Kahless in front, Worf and MAH'delyna behind him, and Picard and Doctor Crusher behind them. The doors swung open, and Worf heard Beverly gasp when she saw the group inside.

The hall was packed. The high councilors stood beside Gowron on the raised dais, on either side of Kahless's throne. Important military men and powerful civilian klingons stood at the head of the hall, and from the klingons to the doors, all of the intergalactic delegates who attended the festival were there as well. It was a glittering assemblage of close to five hundred people.

Kahless lead the group inside. The Emperor went straight up and sat down on his throne. Worf lead MaH'delyna only as far as the red klingon insignia in the floor. He assumed that the captain and the doctor had stopped close behind them.

Gowron nodded to the Emperor and descended to see MaH'delyna. "I am sorry to put you through this." He murmured as he lead her forward. Worf refused to be left behind, and he stayed with his arm beneath MaH'delyna's hand.

Gowron cleared his throat. "Emperor Kahless, I bring MaH'delyna, a woman wronged by members of this council. Recent evidence has brought to light her claim against this men, and it has been the decision of this council that be allowed to pass judgment on her attackers. Will the Emperor accept any decision she makes as valid?" He said in a powerful voice.

"We do." Kahless nodded.

Gowron clapped his gloved hands. "Bring in the traitors!"

There was the clank of chains and a gang of seven people were escorted into the hall, driven by two klingons with whips. Worf was disgusted to notice that Lersash lead the group, his arm and leg having been surgically reattached. The group came abreast of MaH'delyna, Worf, and Gowron, and were halted. Behind them were escorted a middle aged klingon woman and her son. The woman's souless, bitter eyes stared at MaH'delyna. "Lersash's wife and son." Gowron told MaH'delyna.

Kahless cleared his throat. "MaH'delyna, Queen of SoS, we present to you these klingons, their lives yours to do with as you please. The fate of the House of Lersash also rests within your hands."

MaH'delyna surveyed the woman and her child. Worf could see that MaH'delyna's face looked saddened yet resolute. She took a deep breath and began. "I have been given the lives of these klingons. What to do with them is up to me. But why should I want them? Lersash and his men destroyed my home, and nothing I do to Lersash will bring them back.

I have the power of life and death over these men. It is a heady responsibility, and my first impulse is to shout, 'KILL THEM!' But I know that is not the answer. Having Lersash skinned will not bring my father back, it will not bring my mother back, it will not bring my mate, _Qang_ Toloth back, it will not bring my son back, and it will not rebuild the planet of SoS. I have had enough experience in my life to realize that death begets more death. Thereby, I will not order Lersash or any of his men to be executed. I will let them live with their dishonor, I would have their klingon citizenship and their rights as klingons stripped away from them, and I would have them sent to live in a lifetime of servitude on the klingon prison planet of Rura Pente. I think that spending the rest of their lives paying for their crime is much more suitable than a quick death.

"As for Lersash's family, I would ask that the seven generations of dishonor not be applied to his house. I see his young son over there, and I realize that punishing a man's child for his father's crimes only leads to the child growing up with a burning, angry heart. Thereby, with the permission of Emperor Kahless, I would have Lersash's mate and son placed in the house of the Emperor until the boy is of legal age to take control of his own house. Should Lersash's mate wish to follow her husband to Rura Pente, she is welcome to do so.

"I know that there are those of you who will not be pleased with me decision, but you must understand that I have seen enough bloodshed in my time to know that more blood spilt only compounds a problem. As I said, nothing will bring my son back to me. What purpose would the cold blooded murder of that innocent child over there accomplish? He is innocent of his father's heinous crimes. He did not fire the phaser that destroyed my planet. He had not even been conceived a twelve years ago when this all began. I would ask that when he grows to the age of Inclusion that the ruling body of the klingon empire treat him as if nothing happened. If klingons, if anyone, are going to live together, then they must unite as a people and stop all the needless violence. So I pass my judgment on Lersash, his men, and his house." She finished.

The silence in the room was palpable. No one breathed. No one spoke. There was just shocked silence. The klingons stood in disbelief of what they had just heard. What MaH'delyna said had been directly contrary to everything that they had been taught all their lives. The rest of the diplomats were stunned by the fact that the frail young woman had not ordered a blood bath. The idea of a klingon who did not want to murder someone whose crimes were as lengthy as Lersash's was completely beyond them.

Gowron turned and spoke first. "Are you sure?" He asked, his brutal face puzzled.

She nodded sedately. "I am very sure. That is my decision. You said their lives were mine, and I past judgment."

Lersash found his voice. "You say that you won't kill us but you condemn us to Rura Pente! As klingons on a planet reserved for non-klingons prisoners, we won't live to see our first morning there. The other inmates will rip us apart." He screamed. "Kill us quickly! We beg of you!"

MaH'delyna shook her head. "You should have thought of that when you raped me, Lersash. And, you won't die on Pente. Not for a very long time. The Emperor has already agreed to supply some of his own troops to protect you for the rest of your natural lives. Die in dishonor, _Ha'di'baH!_ "

Worf thought about it for a minute. MaH'delyna had a point. It would be far worse for Lersash to live in the ultimate dishonor of being a prisoner on Rura Pente than if he had a quick death. In actual fact her punishment was worse than even the most terrible death she could have picked for Lersash. To be kicked out of the Empire, have ones citizenship stripped from one was the harshest dishonor known to a klingon.

She turned and swept from the hall. Worf followed her. She got no farther than a meter past the doors before she collapsed into Worf's arms. He picked her up and carried her out of the building. There was a small plaza in front of the main entrance to the council building and he took her there, and sat down with her on a small bench. "Are you alive?" He asked.

She nodded weakly. "I didn't like doing that." She said, and grimaced as she held her side..

"It would have been far kinder to have ordered them drawn and quartered. You do realize that, don't you?" He told her.

"I know. I just ordered them to a life of starvation, overwork and extreme cold. On Rura Pente they will be beaten by the inmates, and terrorized by the guards, and I doubt that Kahless's guardian troops will do little more to protect them than to make sure they are still alive at the end of each day."

"Remind me to never get on your bad side."

He stopped when he saw Gowron enter the plaza with a scroll. "MaH'delyna," He said as he approached. "On behalf of the Emperor I am to give you ownership of SoS."

"I don't understand?" She wrinkled her brow.

"Direct ownership of SoS is yours. The entire planet is now your property to do with as you please. I am not just referring to custodianship, but complete title to the planet." Gowron explained.

"I can't own a planet. No single person just owns a planet." She said with disbelief.

"You do. As well, as head of your house, custodianship of all Dylythuim mines in the Empire is also your responsibility." Gowron said.

"I am overwhelmed. I don't know what to say." She breathed.

Gowron sat on the other side of the bench, beside MaH'delyna. He looked quickly at Worf and pressed on. "Tell me that you will take the oath with me." He asked softly.

Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh Gowron." She said softly. The two trickles of moisture ran from her eyes.

Worf stood up, "I will leave you alone." He said hollowly.

MaH'delyna put her hand on his back. "No, Worf, stay." She turned back to Gowron. "Gowron, I love you, I have since I was a girl, but never in this way. You are like my brother. You were always there for me when I was a child but I am not a child anymore. And we both know that my decision today was not what the people wanted. I am different from other klingons. I think differently. I come from a totally different culture." She paused.

"I don't mind." Gowron whispered. "I crave you. You belong to me!"

She put her hand on Gowron's. "Gowron, we both know that I am not the woman to be your consort. Your mate should be a woman who believes in the very fiber of klingonness. She should be strong and unafraid and totally in awe of you. I would not make you a proper wife."

"But I have waited for you-" He continued, brokenly.

"But am I truly what you imagined me to be? When I went to SoS, I was a little warrior in training. Now, I don't like fighting. I could never be what you wanted me to be, and in time your love for me would turn into disgust and hatred." She replied softly.

"But!-"

"And last of all Gowron, you need an heir which I cannot provide for you." She said simply.

Worf turned around to look at her. "What?" He asked.

Gowron glanced at Worf and then his eyes went back to MaH'delyna. "What are you saying?"

"Beverly told me this morning that because of the way my body turned off systems to provide blood to my limbs, it didn't provide blood to other parts of my body that were unnecessary in fighting. The first place it neglected were the reproductive organs. The lack of blood caused sterility. I give life because there is no life in those parts of my body." MaH'delyna explained in a whisper.

Gowron looked at her face, at her stomach and at then at her face. "I do not retract my offer, MaH'delyna." He said firmly.

"But I cannot accept. You need a woman who is full of life, both within her mind, and within her body." MaH'delyna answered.

"Then accept me as your brother, if that is the highest place that I can have in your life." Gowron responded.

She gently embraced Gowron. "You always have been my brother, Gowron, and you always will. I have no family. We have the bond of time, which is as think as blood. I will always care for you."

He put his arms around her then stood. "I must go. Will you stay on Qronos?"

She shook her head. "No. I can't. I don't fit in here. I will talk to Tyng about the Dylythium mines. See if he will become the second of my house, like he was my fathers. I have a feeling that he would be a far better administrator of the mines then I. I think that I might travel a bit, and then perhaps return to SoS." She smiled slightly. "Perhaps I will build an orphanage, for the stray children of the galaxy. I certainly have the means to pay for it, now."

"Then I will bid you good-by, for with the bomb you dropped on the council, I doubt that I will be able to see you before you leave. Fare Well, MaH'delyna. "He traced the ridges of her forehead with one finger. "I will always be here for you. All you have to do is come back to me." Gowron turned to Worf, and murmured in a strange tone. "I guess the better man won." And strode off.

Worf watched him go, and then he turned to MaH'delyna. "Is it true?" He asked simply.

She nodded. "Yes, It is true. I am sterile. There is nothing that Beverly can do. In actual fact, she had to remove much of the organs involved when she operated on me a week ago." She laid a graceful hand on her stomach. "How could I have Lersash's boy killed? I don't think that I will ever be able to take a life. I have none to give in return."

Worf sat and put his arms around her. "Will come back to the Enterprise with me?"

"No, Worf. I can't. I care for you so much, yet, I don't think I am ready to..." Her voice trailed off.

He looked and her, confused. "But why?"

MaH'delyna laid a soft hand on his arm. "Worf, I need time. There is so much that I must do, to sort out. I am a soul who has been brought back. Dead, but now, somehow, and wonderfully, I am alive." She stood up and spread her arms at the sky." I was prepared to die, and as I fell down, Lersash defeated, I felt my soul leave, and I saw them all, standing there, beckoning me to join them. Do you understand Worf? I wanted to go, and yet, you and your ship gave me so many reasons to stay, and I hovered there on the brink, torn with indesion, astonished at my desire to keep fighting, yet desperate to rest with those I loved. And then my father came up to me and lead my away from their haven, and told me," She sobbed slightly. "He told me that there was still work I had to do, and that it wasn't my time yet, no matter how much I wished it to be."

Worf stared up at her, into her eyes. "But why can't you come with me?"

"Oh, Worf, can't you see? I need to seek the answers for myself. It is freedom, and a curse at the same time. If I stay with you, I won't learn for myself, because you will shelter me, and I will stifle you. This is my chance to live up to my potential, A second chance, as if the universe is apologizing for what it has done, and I cannot waste it."

He stood aswell, but looked away from her, his pride stung. "Then let me smother you no longer." He started to stalk off, but her hand grabbed his arm.

"Don't leave me this way, Worf. I love you. And when I am ready, I will find you, and our affair will ignite the stars, but now is not the right time for us. There are things, beyond you and I; it just wouldn't work now, and we both know it, and we must console ourselves knowing that soon a time will come when you aren't burdened with duty and politics, and I am not burdened with grief and pain, and we can be together. And that must sustain us for now."

He shook his head. "I wish I could understand. Why does it have to end this way?"

There was a shout directed at them and Tyng started across the square. "Don't look at this as an ending Worf. It is a beginning, for you and me, and for everything. Not 'good-bye', but, 'untill next time'."

He shook his head. "As you wish it, MaH'delyna." He smiled slightly and inclined his head. "Untill next time." Worf picked up her hand and held it. "Untill we meet again."

She smiled, "Untill we meet again." And turned and walked toward Tyng.

Worf watched her go, and felt a pain in his chest. "Oh yes," He murmured. "Walk away, strong and proud. Out of the shadow and into the sunlight." And then he began to recite:

 _"Let the night surround you,_

 _Let her look her fill._

 _Let her tentacles embrace you._

 _Let her touch at will_

 _Let her scent enfold you._

 _Let her lips draw near._

 _Let the night caress you,_

 _Let her, without fear._

 _Let the Lady kiss you,_

 _Let her fingers through your hair._

 _Let her breathe down your neck,_

 _Let her love you, if you dare._

 _Grab her with your two hands!_

 _Hold her with all your might._

 _For soon her sister, Dawn, will come,_

 _And she'll drift out of sight."_

And so endeth 'Time of Darkness'

By

Lauren Towers


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